The Lady and the Knight
by Jack Hawksmoor
Summary: Sarah's made a great life for herself, but Jareth has a problem. Will Sarah help him? What will it cost her if she does? J/S *Tiny Shirtless Jareth included*
1. Chapter 1

The Lady and the Knight

Chapter 1

Sarah leaned her weight on the railing, looking out at the darkening sky as the stars began to twinkle to life. The boat cut a swath through the ocean, the wind tangling its fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath of the salt air and smiled, loving the smell.

Sarah was twenty-three, and at the moment she had absolutely no idea where she was. She heard a step behind her and turned with calm eyes, luminous and pale in the fading light.

"Are you certain you won't come with me?" A warm, aristocratic voice. A voice meant for Shakespeare's plays. He had probably been alive when Shakespeare had written them. Marcus was short for a man of modern times, almost of a height with Sarah. There was something about the white hair and thick mustache that brought to mind Mark Twain, but his eyes put the lie to any impulse that might be tempted to label him as human. Black eyes. Unimaginably ancient eyes. She was terribly fond of him.

She smiled at him, and shook her head. There was no sadness in the gesture.

"No, Marcus. I'm just not ready to go home," Sarah said, and turned to look out at the water. Her eyes were hungry, devouring the beauty of the evening like a true connoisseur. Marcus leaned on the railing beside her with the exaggerated care of a man favoring old joints. Sarah smothered a smile, not buying it.

"Not ready to have a home, maybe?" Marcus said lightly. Sarah glanced at him, and then after a moment, leaned on him in a friendly fashion. Marcus leaned back, and she caught a smile underneath the mustache. "I could say you've always got a home here with me, but I've a feeling I'd be just one of many folk who've said that to you."

Sarah looked at him askance.

"Doesn't make a friend I make any less dear to me," Sarah said, with a hint of reproach. It was a gift that had served her better than any other. Sarah Williams had an uncanny knack to find real friends. She never would have got so far in life without all those helping hands. "I imagine you've had more than your share, over the years."

"Hmm," replied Marcus gruffly, with razor wit.

Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. Marcus gave the top of her head a peck.

"Clever little mortal girl, aren't you."

Sarah laughed.

"I'd better be, after everything I've got through." She grinned like something not entirely human any more, her teeth glinting white in the darkness.

"You see, that is what I like about you, my dear," Marcus said in a honey tone, "It's so rare to find a woman of your years that can manage to be so delightfully enigmatic."

Sarah ducked her head, leaning into the wind, pleased. She could just make out a flicker of light on the horizon. Possibly an island...

"So," she said, neatly deflecting his praise, "where will you be dumping me?" She smiled slyly. Marcus shot her a sharp look, but relaxed at the look on her face.

"Such vulgar English from such a lovely creature," he scolded. "If my Vulgar Lady Sarah wishes, she may part company with me after we dock. I'm certain there will be someone at this little celebration that will know your worth on sight."

"Mmm, I like that. Sweet talker," Sarah said, batting her eyes at him.

"Best not," Marcus warned her. "I'm old, not dead."

Sarah looked at him challengingly, tall and straight and untamed. He had never done more than cast an appreciative glance her way, and she seriously doubted he ever would. She'd developed a radar for that kind of thing. It was useful, given her...unusual lifestyle.

Sarah had triumphed over a king, once. She figured she could be forgiven for being unsatisfied with mundane life. After high school she had started to wander further and further from home, taking any chance for a trip or a journey with a friend, eyes always open wide to the wonders of the world. Thanks to her strange journey in the Labyrinth, there were many things she could see that other people could not. Things like Marcus, for one.

There had to come a day when she did not go home again. It was inevitable. She packed a bag, took a small amount of saved money, and started to make her way in the wide, weird world. How could she be afraid? She'd fought her way to the castle beyond the goblin city. She could find her way through anything.

She sent postcards home, whenever it was possible. Some of the places she'd been to over the years were not exactly operating under the general laws of physics, much less the postal system. She tried her best.

She had a postcard shoved in her back pocket for Toby, actually. While the thought was fresh, she dug it out, checked to be sure it was addressed correctly.

She looked from the card up at Marcus.

"This celebration," she began, " the guests will be...just people?" The only thing in her voice was curiosity. There was more than enough adventure to be had in the regular world, if those were the folk she would be meeting.

"Just people," Marcus repeated thoughtfully. "I suppose it could happen." He sounded extremely skeptical.

Hmm. Anything might turn out then.

Cheered by this thought, Sarah excused herself to get ready.

She packed what few things she cared to take in her bag. It was a bit heavier than it used to be. Lighter on trifles, but heavier on the strange and wonderful things she'd acquired in her travels. She left Toby's postcard next to the bunk she'd been sleeping on for the past six months. She knew Marcus would understand, and make sure it was delivered.

Sarah was always careful not to be unclothed in front of the mirror in her cabin. When she finally did step in front of it, posing a bit and letting the little skirt on her dress swing attractively, she winked at the two goblins that peered over the edge of the mirror and made faces at her. Then she called for Hoggle, and spoke to him seriously, as she always did when she was leaving for parts unknown. There had been several times over the years that convenient access to a mirror had saved her life. Ludo had busted her out of a prison of sorts, once. Hoggle and Sir Didymus had untied her in dire situations several times.

Hoggle never liked it when she put herself in harms way, but he was even more grumpy than usual that evening, and Sarah ended up sitting down and looking earnestly into his reflected eyes. He had the devils own time lying to her whenever she did that.

"I ain't sayin' nothin'," Hoggle said immediately.

"Then I'll ask Sir Didymus. He won't lie to me," Sarah said confidently, and Hoggle flinched. Sarah softened her tone. " I know something's wrong, just tell me." She had a sharp thought. "Is it the Goblin King?"

"Jareth?" Hoggle said with an incredulous snort that went further to ease her fears than anything he might've said. "He can barely..." Hoggle stiffened. "Look, it ain't him. Something's gone funny in the Labyrinth, is all."

"Are you in danger?" Sarah asked, her voice suddenly stronger, more assured. Hero voice.

Hoggle frowned, the wrinkles on his face deepening.

"I'm fine," he said, and she nearly believed that. " I'm sure it'll sort itself out." She believed that a bit less, but nodded, accepting it. For now.

"If you need me, you'll call, won't you?" Sarah asked. Hoggle nodded, waving his hand at her as if it was a silly thing for her to ask him. Sarah pressed her lips together tight. "Promise," she urged. Hoggle opened his eyes wide, managing to look hurt. Sarah had learned a thing or two in the eight years since she'd left the Labyrinth. Some words had power with magical types.

"I promise," Hoggle said grudgingly, and she relaxed, smiling at him. Powerful words.

Marcus met her on deck in a suit straight out of Victorian England. He even had a bowler hat. She made appreciative noises, and he bowed gallantly. She was wearing white, a flouncy little dress that felt good on her skin in the warm weather. When the company turned unusual, she'd learned that the dress code tended to be extremely flexible.

Marcus cocked an elbow for her and she slid her arm through his with easy grace.

He led her down the dock and she realized immediately that someone had spared no expense.

Nearly the entire island had been strung with fairy lights and streamers of bright cloth that fluttered attractively in the breeze. Pagodas and gazebos had been built, strung together on the ground and in the trees like lace. Colorful tents were busy with people, and there was a wide dance floor built of pale wood open under the stars.

The music was sweet and lively, and the creatures that danced were laughing and brightly dressed.

"Oh, Marcus," Sarah breathed in delight.

Marcus suddenly looked a bit taller.

"I thought you might like it," he said, guiding her up the steps as if she were some beautiful, delicate thing. As if she belonged on that dance floor. "Not a bad goodbye present, don't you think?"

"I love it," Sarah sighed, hugging his arm close. An inhumanly pale creature passed them with a polite nod, silver eyes bright in the moonlight. She darted up and planted a kiss on Marcus' cheek.

"Dance with me," he urged her.

Sarah danced with Marcus, who was not bad on his feet, and then with a slightly disturbing looking man who seemed nearly human until he smiled and showed her a mouthful of sharp gleaming fangs. Shortly after that a huge fellow with skin so dark it was almost black stepped in. His name was Marib, and he had fire in his eyes than had nothing at all to do with the reflection off the torches.

He was hot, almost feverish to the touch, and he was looking at her in a way that made her think she might have found a new traveling companion. She let him draw her closer on the second song. He had a kind face, and he was staring at her as if she was dazzling.

When she begged off another dance to go and hunt for some food, he went as well. He did not hover over her, nor did he presume by taking her arm. He followed with his hands behind his back, a comfortable grace to his stride that was eye catching.

Strange and beautiful and terrifying things moved around them inside the tent, laughing and talking and snarling at each other. She caught a glimpse of Marcus conversing earnestly with a man-shaped piece of living stone. She took time to watch how the flames in Marib's eyes cast shadows on the rest of his face. She turned her head to admire the multicolored feathers sprouting from the aristocratic neck of a young woman.

Sarah was utterly in her element.

Then, she saw him. His mismatched eyes met hers with a clash of steel. The shock of it struck her silent, choking her off in mid-sentence. She just caught a flash of him, as the crowd parted for a moment. How could he be here?

Her mind fumbled, and Marib looked down at her in concern.

_Jareth._

It was him, she was sure it was him...but what in the hell was he doing here?

"I'm sorry," she said to Marib, "I have to..." she didn't even finish the thought, much less the sentence. She was already pushing through the crowd. She didn't stop until she was standing on the spot he'd been. He was, of course, gone. She would have been more surprised if he'd still been there.

She looked around her at the crowd, frustrated. Her eye caught on the table nearest her arm. On it rested a single soft white feather. She picked it up as if she expected it, too, to vanish.

She ran the delicate plume through her fingers, frowning. Tricky, tricky...

It took her a moment to realize the music had changed. It was an unfamiliar tune, but the shift in style was jarring. This new music was very...him. Danceable but just this side of disturbing. With the gleam of the hunt in her eye, she took off for the dance floor, brushing right by a rather startled Marib. He probably thought she was losing her mind. Then she pushed past a lizard man in a deerstalker hat and remembered everything was relative.

She exited the tent, getting a good look at the open dance floor, and deflated. It had cleared out considerably with the shift in music style, and it was easy to tell he was not there.

"Tell me something Sarah," said a voice in her ear, and a corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. She turned and looked at him with raised eyebrows, as if she'd known he was there all along.

Jareth was splendid in white, and almost exactly as she remembered him.

"What might that be," she replied calmly, as if they were old friends picking up the threads of an interrupted conversation.

"Wouldn't you agree, looking back now, that I was generous after all?" His smile was crooked and cold as ever, but there was a hint of real amusement in his eye.

Twenty-three year old Sarah, who'd gone through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, met things much, much more terrible than her first victory had ever shown her, looked at her first adversary through the clear lens of hindsight and felt an unexpected, nostalgic fondness well up.

She knew it was showing on her face, because his eyes widened.

"I dare say you were," she said finally, in an entirely unconvincingly careless tone of voice. "I've found that a lot of things are relative." He had, after all, returned her and Toby after she'd won. He'd broken a few of his own rules, but not all of them. Hell, he had rules to break.

And afterwards...she could still see. Things like goblins, and fairies, and Marib. He left her with that, he'd left her with her friends. It was against the rules to do that. He should have taken her memory of the whole thing. She'd often wondered why...

Jareth looked unaccountably pleased, which left her pleasantly irritated with him.

The music swelled in an attractive way that begged to be danced to. Jareth stepped forward slowly enough for her to get out of the way if she objected. She did not, so he swept her up and they joined the dancers. His thumb was lightly stroking the white feather she still had tucked between her fingertips. He glanced from it to her face and she was suddenly startled with the thought that he was pleased she'd kept it.

The moon had risen high and luminous. Something about the quality of the light seemed to concentrate on her dancing partner, and she turned her face aside for a moment, briefly blinded. She blinked, startled, then glanced down at herself and let out a breath of laughter. She'd been wearing a pretty little white dress. She was now in a gown worthy of royalty. It swept the floor as she moved.

Jared's fine white suit had picked up embroidery and jewels.

"How...dramatic," Sarah said with that same nostalgic fondness shining a bit brighter. "You always did have a flair."

"Mmm, says the beautiful young girl who was practically a slave," Jareth commented, looking as though he were enjoying himself immensely.

Sarah let out a bark of laughter. Good god, she hadn't thought of that in years...

"What are you doing here?" A question that might have been suspicious, or demanding, was by the surprisingly pleasant start to their conversation delivered with a delighted chuckle and a shake of Sarah's head. She'd always said, buy a girl a dress and she'll follow you anywhere...

Jareth extended his arm, twirling her smoothly. He drew her back up against his chest and she flashed him a disturbing, not-quite-human-anymore smile. Jareth stared, as most people did the first time they saw it.

"I knew you were here, of course," Jareth said, recovering quickly.

"Liar," Sarah replied, not unkindly. "I didn't even know I would be here."

He really was a marvelous dancer, and he did not lose their rhythm together, but he hesitated a little, his eyes flickering at her words.

Well, well. Not a liar after all. Sarah was surprised. How would he know she would be here...more importantly, why would he care?

"You've been spying on me," she said and it wasn't quite a question. She wasn't sure if she should be flattered or not. Jareth looked coldly amused.

"Now why would someone such as myself waste any more time than I already have on an ordinary slip of a girl like you?" His words were harsh out of his mouth, with a lot of emphasis on the word 'ordinary'.

_'But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby...' _

Sarah raised her eyebrows, realizing she'd touched a nerve.

"And wasting such a beautiful dress on me, too," Sarah said with mock reproach, eyes wide.

Jareth paused, startled, and then laughed out loud. It was still the wild, mocking, frightening laugh from her youth. Sarah was surprised that the sound of it was still able to shoot chills down her spine.

"You've changed, Sarah." He did not look disappointed. He looked...intrigued. The music faded, and they stopped dancing in the middle of the floor.

"I should certainly hope so," Sarah replied. He didn't let go of her, or step away, and the next smile she gave him was the gentle one. "You let me go on Seeing. I don't know why, but..." Her friends. All the wild wonders in the world and out of it.

The 'thank you' was there, on her face and in her voice, but she didn't say it out loud. He _had _stolen her brother and scared the crap out of her. Even if it did end up building character.

Jareth looked like a boy on Christmas morning. Well. A decidedly dangerous, mercurial and elegantly dressed boy on Christmas morning. She wasn't entirely sure it was an act. After all, who thanks the Goblin King for anything?

He raised his eyebrows at her and utterly failed to respond to her question. He wasn't going to tell her why he'd let her go on Seeing.

Sarah thought suddenly about another passage in that red book.

_'But what no one knew is that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers.'_

"_Everything that you wanted I have done."_

"_Just fear me, love me..."_

Hmm.

He'd also, she noticed, very neatly avoided telling her why he was here.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note- Thanks to all for the great feedback!_

The Lady and the Knight

Ch 2

Jareth led her up some cunningly designed stairs to a white balcony nestled in the trees. A pair of ladies in peacock gowns were talking quietly to themselves off to the side, but beyond that they were alone.

Sarah moved away from the steps with a grateful thought that when Jareth had changed her dress, he'd left her shoes.

No matter how formal the occasion was, Sarah had learned it was always important to wear shoes she could run in, if she had to. Or climb six flights of stairs in, for that matter. Rather out of breath, she wasn't feeling all that appreciative of the undergarments that had come with the gown.

"Are you all right?" Jareth asked in a way that let her know quite clearly he didn't care if she was, and might even be enjoying himself, watching her wheezing.

"Just appreciating the corsetry, Your Majesty." She spoke his title as if she'd rather wipe herself with it than speak it.

Jareth smirked, and she felt the laces at her back suddenly loosen. Sarah did jump then. It had felt exactly like someone had reached down the back of her dress. She looked at Jareth narrowly, and he leaned casually against the railing, looking beautiful and inhuman. Not terribly innocent, however.

"So, you're here because you thought I needed a new dress and some complicated underwear, is that right?" she asked, pretending to take the bodice incident in stride.

"You're always so certain the world revolves around you." He sounded faintly mocking, but his heart wasn't in it. The fairy lights were twinkling up here, and Sarah imagined she looked very fine in the soft glow and the lovely dress.

"You said you were here for me," Sarah said casually. She looked down at the beautiful creatures celebrating below them, struck by a sudden thought. "I forgot to ask what all the fuss is about," she realized with chagrin.

"The turning of the season is important," Jareth replied, as if speaking to a child.

"Fall," she said with a jolt. Jareth was looking at her oddly. "Already," she said with a detached kind of concern. "I didn't know I'd been away from the world so long..." She frowned, unsettled. She and Marcus had been in and out of the world quite a bit lately. It was one of the reasons he was headed back for normal life. He needed a break.

"Does it trouble you, Sarah?" Jareth asked in that silky tone of voice that meant he was weaving a trap together. "So far from home, and all the things you love?"

"Not all the things I love," Sarah said without hesitation, looking at him with clear, fearless eyes. "Not half the things I love."

Jareth looked briefly uneasy, as if she'd blossomed into something dangerous right in front of his face. She caught his eyes straying down past the hollow of her neck to where her uncomfortable underwear was producing some respectable cleavage.

Well, well. Look at the Goblin King.

Sarah turned with deliberate grace and moved up to the Goblin King's side, leaning on the railing next to him. He watched her do it with an interesting mix of desire and wariness.

"And how is Toby?" he said then, as if he needed a fight to protect himself. She looked at him sharply, frowning. He had a crystal, rolling it with impossible ease over the back of his hand and across his fingers. Watching him do it was mesmerizing, and so she was careful just to peek at it out of the corner of her eye. "Would you like to know?" Jareth prodded, when she stayed coldly silent. He lifted it out in front of her face, and for a moment, she thought she saw Toby reflected inside it. Then he snatched it back, returned to toying with it.

"It depends on the price," Sarah replied. She looked up at the stars, at the swaying branches of the tree above them.

"The usual. Your hopes, your dreams, your immortal soul," Jareth said easily. Sarah burst out laughing, relaxing immediately.

"No thank you," she said, snickering. Good god, he was teasing her. Wonders never cease. Obligingly, Jareth tucked the crystal away, making it vanish into his empty hand. It was a good trick, even if he'd stolen the move from David Copperfield. Sarah smiled at a sudden thought.

"That's how you knew I would be here," Sarah said, surprised and amused. Jareth glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and tossed her a new crystal.

He expected her to flinch. She could see the anticipation on his face.

Sarah snatched it out of the air easily. The trick was not to look at the object directly, be it a crystal or an item of jewelry or a magic mirror. These kind of things snared the heart through the eyes, so to speak. It was best to look slightly to one side of them, and catch what was contained without focusing directly.

She saw herself quite clearly, resting her head on Marcus' shoulder as they looked out over the ocean together. The crystal was warm in her hand, like it was alive.

She looked up at The Goblin King, who looked surprised as all hell, and even slightly embarrassed.

"You know, I think I am flattered," Sarah said thoughtfully, and tossed it back to him. She toyed with an idea, turning it and examining it in her mind before speaking aloud. "From the sound of things, though, you've got enough to worry about without dragging me into it." She was going to wait a little, try and pull the information from Hoggle or Sir Didymus if she had to, but since Jareth was right there in front of her, she found she couldn't resist. '_Something's gone funny in the Labyrinth...'_

Jareth darkened like storm clouds gathering. She watched streaks of black crawl through his hair, and took a step back.

"Do you dare mock?" He snapped, his voice slicing through the air. It hurt her ears like a physical attack, and she winced. "With the situation so dire, you would stand there and twitter over it?" Jareth looked about as far gone into a cold rage as she had ever seen, and she felt the first flutters of fear.

Dire...

"I'm not!" she insisted, stiffening. "I don't know what's going on, I just heard things were bad." She opened her eyes wide. She knew it made her look very young.

For a moment, Jareth looked bitterly disappointed. It startled her. He turned from her as if he meant to leave.

"I see I was mistaken. Still a selfish, stupid girl." He did not quite look at her as he said it. He did not see Sarah, regarding his retreating back with pale, calculating eyes. It was at least possible he was being sincere, and Sarah was abruptly presented with two ways to handle herself.

Sarah could move swiftly and silently in her beautiful, practical shoes. Jareth looked down at her hand on his arm as if he was considering tearing it off at the wrist. Then he looked up.

"Are you in danger?" she asked. Hero voice...

Jareth saw the change in her face, heard it in her voice, and his eyes widened. She was taking a gamble, but she had to trust her instincts. Sarah had always had the uncanny ability to find friends.

"Yes," The Goblin King said, drawing himself up to his full height, looking down at her with glittering eyes. He said yes, and nothing else.

'But the king was proud, and would never ask for help, though his kingdom stood on the edge of great peril, and many good folk could die.'

_Until one day, when she was tired from a day of housework, and she was hurt by the harsh words of her stepmother, and she could no longer stand it... _

There were certain ways these things had to be done.

'The hero was angered by the foolish pride of the king, and said-'

"'I have no love for you, proud King, but I care for those in your kingdom that have shown me kindness and called me friend. For them I will help you, and aid your cause as best I can,'"Sarah quoted, her eyes gentle. Now to see if he could act differently if given different restrictions.

"You go too far," Jareth said, but he said it softly and his eyes were calm. Her hand was still on his arm and he didn't tell her to remove it. The texture of the brocade on his sleeve made it feel as though she stroked her hand through ruffled feathers.

Sarah took a deep breath. She could feel it, the old magic, circling them, closing in on them like a shark scenting blood.

"If I have, I'm sorry," Sarah said sincerely. Jareth smiled slightly with knowing eyes.

There were certain ways these things had to be done, and they didn't have much time.

"You always are," Jareth replied and took her hand from where it rested on his sleeve, twining her fingers with his.

"I'll need safe passage," Sarah reminded him, "and a promise. I'll do my best, but after that, I want to be returned here to the party." He would have to ensure that only a little time passed here- she knew that for creatures like him the precaution was almost second nature.

"For your best," Jareth said with dry emphasis "We have a bargain."

The King lifted his hand and Sarah felt the world start to fold. She stopped him with a hand on his chest.

His eyes flicked down at her hand pressed against the soft material of his shirt, then back up to her face with an impatient question in his eyes.

"Wait," Sarah said. "I need my bag."

She'd left it on deck, tucked away where it wouldn't be noticed but could be retrieved quickly. Jareth waited on the dock. He was something that needed to be invited in. Normally given the situation there would have been no problem; The boat deck was open to the air and he was capable of wings. Marcus, however, did not take kindly to uninvited guests and had protected his craft accordingly. Sarah was tempted to go below one last time, to see her room again, but there was no point to it. She would be back soon enough, and little time would have passed here.

When she walked down the ramp, Jareth met her with a gift.

"Safe passage," he explained as he held it out to her.

A pendant, small and silver, with horns curving down. It was nearly glowing with contained enchantment. The shape of it teased at her memory, and she looked quickly to his neck. He smiled crookedly and spread his shirt a little. He wore one as well. The mate to hers was larger, and a bit more...sinister looking.

She lifted her eyes to his face, to his exotic, mismatched eyes.

"It doesn't look like it did you much good," she said gently, sympathetically.

For a moment, just a moment, Jareth looked utterly human and very, very sad.

There were places that were children's places, places that were adult places and places that were halfway between the two. They all had their own rules, and the one thing they all had in common was that they changed you. Every place tried to change the people that came there, bend them until they fit the rules of that place. A person could very easily lose themselves, if they spent too much time in a place that was too different from them. A traveler needed powerful protection to get through unscathed. There was more than one reason she had been given only thirteen hours to run the Labyrinth.

Sometimes the changes could be good. Sarah had left the Labyrinth the first time much stronger, braver, and kinder than she had been going in.

But sometimes...sometimes the changes could be very unfortunate.

Sarah put her hand out to take the protective amulet from Jareth, and did not immediately let go of his hand. He let her, looking away so he would not have to see the understanding on her face.

She could feel the crackle in the air that meant they were out of time. Old magic started to tighten around them like a fist.

"You won't be caught there as I was," Jareth said, so quietly she could have pretended she hadn't heard him.

Sarah slipped the pendant on over her head without comment. She was surprised when she felt the brush of his gloves at the nape of her neck. She turned her head to look as Jareth lifted her hair clear of the chain for her.

When she turned back, they were elsewhere.


	3. Chapter 3

The Lady and the Knight

Ch 3

They stood on the crest of a hill. A vast field of gold extended out to the horizon, rippling in the wind like the ocean on a choppy day. A single tree stood just behind them, the bark glittering unnaturally. They were alone, and everything seemed quite peaceful. Sarah dropped her pack on the ground, looking around for trouble and finding none.

Jareth stepped up against her back just as she started to get suspicious. He pointed at a spot near the horizon, his face close enough to hers that she could feel his breath on her cheek, on the curve of her neck.

"There," he said, his free hand coming up to cup her shoulder. It was probably incredibly stupid of her to feel safe with him at her back. She looked where he pointed, squinting her eyes. A dark spot... it could just be a shadow or a rock or something...

Jareth turned his face into her hair and breathed into her ear.

"Do you see it?" He said.

"Yes," Sarah replied, disturbed by how close he'd gotten without her really noticing. Or objecting. "It could be anything, I-"

Sarah was staring intently at the spot when she felt a sudden ripple of unease. She stiffened in shock as she felt a tug.

It was snaring her heart through her eyes.

The spot swelled in her sight, though she stood rooted to the ground. She could see far, and farther, until she saw a place where the grass withered and the rocks stuck up like giants' bones from the bare earth. The cloudy sky darkened overhead, and as if emboldened by the lack of light, things started to crawl out from the earth, terrible white pearlescent things that had never known the sun...The tugging became a tearing and something was burning at her throat...

Jareth wrenched her away, turning her, coming between that horrible place and her line of sight. She felt the connection snap like a physical blow, and Jareth caught her as she crumpled.

She did not resent it. She clutched at him, breathing hard, the pendant at her breast glowing brightly, like a small star. Sarah shuddered. If she hadn't been wearing the necklace, if Jareth hadn't been there, it would have taken her. Just like that, so easily.

He'd pulled her up practically into his lap, leaning over her, one arm wrapped around her middle and the other stroking her hair. She was freezing, and she was ridiculously grateful for the solid warmth of him against her back.

"There we are," he breathed, almost nonsense words, comfort words, weaving a spell of his own. "All right," he whispered into her ear. "All right."

"What-" she breathed, but stopped, because she knew what. Oh, yes, Sarah thought to herself with a shudder, she knew what this was. There were adult worlds, and in between worlds...and terrible worlds. Worlds so horrifying that even to look upon them was to face madness and death. Sick, tainted, evil places, filled with unimaginable monsters, locked up and sealed tightly away so they could do no harm but to themselves. Like most evil things, however, they did not always remain where they were put. Sometimes things leaked through, or pushed through. If they couldn't be stopped they would overrun the land they tainted, leaving all those who lived upon it to suffer unimaginable pain and madness and death. "How," she had to stop and clear her throat. "How big is it?" How large is the tainted place, how much has come through...

Jareth stilled, and Sarah's heart sank. She thought suddenly of Hoggle, and kind, sweet Ludo...

"It cuts a path," he said bleakly. "I have not followed it back to it's beginning."

"A road?" Sarah said hopelessly. "A Black Road." She shook her head and turned in his arms. He saw what she was going to say before she opened her mouth and he grabbed her shoulders hard. Now she knew why Jareth had asked her. Anyone else would see that it was hopeless and leave as soon as they found out how much had seeped in.

"I have to try," he snapped. "You said you would help, that you would do your best, so do it." He looked very tired all of a sudden. She wondered what it had cost him to hide it from her until now. If he was fighting the encroachment of evil into his lands he must be using everything at his disposal. Running full out to stay in one place, so to speak. Sarah touched her necklace, shocked he'd had the strength to produce such a powerful thing.

She reached out to him.

"Are you-"

"I'm all right," he said swiftly, getting to his feet and offering her a hand up. His eyes turned frightening and grim. "I'm not at my limits yet." She brushed herself off and straightened the fabric of the dress, which looked rather rumpled. "Come along," Jareth said with a sigh. "There's more to see."

She felt the world twist that time, and then she was standing on a familiar spot, looking out at the labyrinth sprawling in front of them almost as far as the eye could see.

"This way," Jareth said and started off without her. She frowned after him, then had to run a little to catch up. She supposed she should not have been surprised when the labyrinth opened for him. It grew a door and swung it open almost hastily in front of its master. When they got inside it was another matter entirely. The walls almost folded in on themselves in their eagerness to make a path for him. She supposed she could be excused for not expecting the labyrinth to react to his presence like an excited puppy. She could swear space itself was folding, making the trip shorter than it could have possibly been, squeezing a mile of walking into ten steps.

She noticed that it had suddenly gotten colder.

Jareth stopped abruptly in front of her, throwing out an arm to stop her.

"No closer," he warned, then stepped aside so she could see. On the stone blocks of the wall in front of them, there was a mark. Sarah was very careful, after her first mistake, not to look at it directly. She noticed Jareth come up behind her again anyway, and felt a brief flicker of gratitude.

It was utterly black, irregular in shape and about the size of a window. In a circle all around it was what looked like sand, stuck to the yellow stone. It glittered brightly in an unbroken line as if holding something back. She could feel the cold coming off the dark stain like a stiff winter wind. Then she tilted her head and caught a glimpse of something that made her heart sink. Without thinking, she lifted her foot to take a step forward, to get a better look.

Jareth moved quick as a snake, snatching her arm and bringing her up against him roughly. Sarah looked back at him in terrible comprehension.

Inside the black mark, completely overrun, was the faintly glittering remains of an earlier, smaller circle of sand. He'd tried to bind it, he'd tried but it was winning...

"We need something pure," Sarah said faintly, not really looking at anything, lost in her own thoughts.

"I brought you," Jareth said, with just a touch of warmth. Sarah looked up at him, startled, and then smiled when she saw the look on his face.

"Not quite," she said, blushing a little and turning her face away.

"I mean something, like a plant or a flower or something...something that grows. Something alive that we can plant here." Sarah frowned at her feet.

"I need..." she said faintly, and then stiffened and swung her pack off her shoulder. She unfastened it and scrabbled around inside for a moment before bringing out a small compact. She snapped it open and turned it so the mirror was facing away from Jareth. He frowned at her, and she touched her fingers to her lips.

"Hoggle, I need you," she said clearly.

"Sarah?" Hoggle's face faded into view. He squinted at her, at the wall behind her. "Where are you?"

Sarah grinned, despite everything.

"I'm here, Hoggle. I'm in the labyrinth." She glanced briefly over at Jareth, who looked coolly amused. He leaned with casual elegance against a wall, and Sarah fought the urge to make a face at him.

"Are you all right?" Hoggle cried, stiffening. "I'm coming, don't worry-"

That was too much for Jareth, who laughed out loud.

In the mirror, Hoggle froze in terror.

"It's all right!" Sarah said quickly, shooting the Goblin King a dirty look.

"Is that, is," he gulped, "Is that..."

Jareth came around behind her, resting his chin in a familiar way on her shoulder.

"Ah, Hedgewort," Jareth said with dangerous charm. "Coming to save the lovely Sarah, are you?"

"You leave her-" Hoggle sputtered, as if his ears had just caught up to his brain. "That's Hoggle! _Hog-gle_!"

"Everything's all right, don't worry," Sarah insisted. "I'm safe, but I need to ask you something."

"What are you doing with him?" Hoggle growled, shooting daggers at Jareth with his eyes. Jareth rubbed her shoulder lightly with his cheek, and Sarah frowned, pushed him back a little with her elbow.

"Hoggle, please, this is important," she insisted. Hoggle hesitated, then nodded, looking wary. "I need to know, after someone gets dunked in the Bog of Eternal Stench, what do they do then?"

"I told you already, they stink forever," Hoggle replied, looking confused.

"I know all that," Sarah dismissed, "but what about after? Don't tell me they just accept it. There must be something people use to try and get it off. A plant or an herb or something?" Hoggle looked uncomfortable, and Sarah felt a thrill of triumph. "Anything that might help, even if it doesn't get rid of it completely?" Sarah pressed, her eyes glittering. Hoggle was glancing back at Jareth with dull panic in his eyes.

Sarah understood. The Bog was Jareth's favorite threat, and if there was something that people were using to help, sure as anything if Jareth found out about it he'd have it destroyed. Normally, anyway. They were currently stuck in rather extraordinary circumstances.

Hoggle suddenly stiffened as if he'd had a horrible thought.

"He hasn't dunked you, has he?" Hoggle gasped. Sarah opened her mouth to reassure him, but Jareth grabbed her arm hard, and she stopped.

"I can barely stand to be around her," Jareth said with deliberate maliciousness. "It's a terrible pity, to spoil such beauty." He nearly succeeded in looking contrite.

"Damn you, Jareth!" Hoggle snarled. It gave her heart a pang to see it, and she moved to speak but Jareth clamped down on her arm and she subsided unhappily.

Jareth laughed at him. It was suitably diabolical and Hoggle deflated, convinced.

"Bemony. It grows down by the bog but it don't stink. Some folk says it helps." He shook his head sadly.

"Thank you, Hogwatch, you've been such a help-"

"-Don't listen to him, Hogwatch," Sarah winced. "_Hoggle_," she corrected herself. Jareth made a polite scoffing sound, and Sarah glared at him as she spoke. "The Goblin King is horrible but I'm fine. I haven't been dunked. Thank you so much, you have been helpful, and I promise I'll explain everything later."

Hoggle had his mouth open, looking mutinous, but she snapped the compact shut quick before he could explode and prod Jareth into dunking him for real.

"Bemony." Sarah said firmly. "Do you know it?"

"Of course," Jareth said mildly, lifting his eyebrows. "You want to plant it here?"

"I've done something similar before. Unless I miss my guess, It'll help hold back the spread of that thing." Sarah pushed the compact back into her bag with more force than she strictly needed to, irritated with the smug creature in front of her.

"I'll see to it immediately," Jareth said with confident charm, extending a hand to her and gesturing towards the castle, which was impossibly close given the distance they'd walked. From where she stood, it looked like they were somewhere inside the Goblin City already. Sarah swung her pack back over her shoulder and ignored his hand, waiting for him to start walking with narrowed eyes.

Jareth faltered a little at that, and she saw a flicker of anger in his eyes that made her wary. He turned sharply and took off without waiting for her. Sarah followed behind, grateful for a little distance.

He spoke to his goblins in the courtyard in front of the castle, ordering them to gather the plant without damaging it, promising that any who did would be residing in the bog permanently from then on. Sarah watched silently as he threatened them, strangely disappointed. She might have changed, but he hadn't. Not really. The goblins scattered, but Jareth remained where he was, facing away from her.

"There's a room prepared for you, if you'd care to use it," Jareth said, turning his head slightly but not looking at her. Sarah frowned at him.

"You were awfully sure of yourself," Sarah said shortly. And he was, wasn't he? So damn sure of her. Of course she would come. He would bat his mismatched eyes at her and she'd follow him like an idiot. Make a room up ahead of time, she'll be along.

Jareth did look at her then, and Sarah thought that perhaps she could not read him at all, because to her eyes it looked like he was quite miserable.

"Yes," he said, sounding very tired. "This way."

The throne room was as filthy and disorganized as she remembered. The goblins had cleared out but they'd left their chicken behind. There was another door that had not been there the last time, and when he led her through it there was a long hallway beyond it, with several doors. He stopped at the second one and it opened for him without him needing to touch it. Sarah hesitated before blowing past him.

"Thank you," she said. "For the room."

"I can have something to eat brought up, if you wish," Jareth offered. He looked dead on his feet, and Sarah softened a little.

"Safe food?" she asked, tilting her head and looking up at him.

"We have a bargain," he replied. " Safe passage. What's said is said," Jareth barely smiled, and Sarah nodded at him. She didn't smile, but she wasn't rude either. She was careful not to slam the door behind her. Then she leaned against the door and let out a long breath. She leaned her head back and gently thunked it on the wood a couple of times. It was soothing.

Then she straightened up, got a hold of herself, and started to look around the room she'd been given. It was a lot cleaner than the rest of the castle. Lack of use, she suspected. The ceiling was enormously high, and it looked like little twinkling stars had been set into the stone. There was a bed that was large enough to be considered vaguely obscene, two plush chairs and a small table. There were dressers and a monstrous wardrobe, plus a full length mirror on a stand in the corner. Sarah moved over to it, unable to resist.

She was right, the dress had gotten rumpled a bit. But good lord, what a dress. She looked amazing in it. What could have possessed him to be so extravagant? He was barely holding his kingdom together and he wasted magic on a pretty dress for a girl he hasn't seen in the flesh since she defeated him? It didn't make sense. Idly, Sarah licked her finger and wiped a smudge off her face.

She was interrupted by her food arriving. The creature that brought it was pleasant enough and Sarah relaxed when she saw the food wasn't anything too bizzare. The things she had been forced to eat over the years...

This was just bread and good cheese, and some fruit. Apples, she noticed with a thin smile. Some kind of hot spiced drink that she didn't really care for. It was light, snack food before bed. Sarah had to admit she appreciated the hell out of Jareth's little gesture. It was still barely evening in the Underground, but she was on Above time and for her it was late. She dusted her fingers off and eyed the wardrobe. She couldn't sleep in this dress, that was certain.

When she pulled open the doors the first thing she saw was a white shift, loose and light and probably about ankle length. Close enough to a nightgown for her, she thought with pleasure, and snatched it, turning quickly to toss it on the bed as she started to struggle out of the gown and the complicated underwear that went with it.

She rubbed at the parts of her skin the corset had chafed, slipped the shift over her head with a little shiver of pleasure at the soft material. She sat back on the bed with a sigh of relief, and her eyes came to rest quite naturally on an object in the room she had overlooked.

A book. A book with a red cover.

Sarah caught her breath, reaching out with an unsteady hand to pick it up. She opened it to the first page. _The Labyrinth_, it said. There was a thumbprint on the corner from when she had been reading it at the dinner table and smeared some grease on it. Sarah dropped the thing on the night stand and snatched her hand away as if it might bite her. She stared at it for a moment, willing it to disappear, because it was impossible for it to be there. The book remained, to spite her.

She turned her head, and looked at the white dress, gleaming gorgeously where she had placed it on a chair. She turned her head a little further, and saw the wardrobe open, revealing something silvery.

As if she were in a dream, Sarah stood up and approached. She pulled the doors open wider. There were many dresses in there. She picked out the first one, a light, silvery gray thing and regarded it as if it might explode at any moment. Then she unfastened it and pulled it over her head. She ran to the mirror and stood in front of it staring like a deer into headlights. It fit her perfectly. And...and...Sarah groped for the word. It flattered her perfectly. Her head snapped around to look at the wardrobe again. She pulled out another dress, and another, tossing them on the bed feverishly.

They all fit. They all suited her like she'd been born to wear them. She pulled things out of the drawers. It all fit, every last scrap. Sarah leaned on the dresser as she pulled off the last thing, a beautiful cream robe with dark ivy stitched onto the heavy cloth with shining green thread. She put all her weight on her hands and took a deep breath to calm her skittering thoughts.

There was a large black jewelry box on top of the dresser that she'd been avoiding. Her hand was not entirely steady as she lifted the lid. She saw what was in it and exhaled sharply.

A king's ransom in jewelry. Necklaces and bracelets and one small empty space where the black velvet showed through a carpet of diamonds. Sarah traced the emptiness with a finger, frowning. Then she froze. Her free hand came up to her throat, where an unusually shaped pendant was resting against her breastbone. She held it out. It fit the space perfectly.

He hadn't just made the amulet. Jareth had made it who knew how long ago and kept it here, waiting for her. Jareth had this whole room just sitting here, waiting for her.


	4. Chapter 4

The Lady and the Knight

Ch 4

Sarah backed carefully away from the furniture, retreating into the very center of the room, looking around herself as if she expected something to jump out at her. She pulled her bag with her, and when she was as far away from everything in the room as she could get, she crouched down and felt carefully along the stitching inside the bag until her fingers found the little pouch she was hunting for. She dipped into it with her fingertips and pulled out what looked like a small iridescent river rock. She set it on the flat of her palm, leaning close. A person had to get close to see the delicate little markings, and realize what it was. She opened her mouth, and breathed on it.

For a minute, there was nothing. Then it gave a tiny shiver and twitched on her hand. Shiny little legs folded out from what had been, a moment before, barely noticeable carvings. The little scarab fluttered her tiny wings, flashing steaks of color. Blue and gold and purple.

"Hello, little friend," Sarah said softly. The little insect shut her wings with a click. "I need your help tonight, all right? Check the room for me?"

The beetle seemed to think about that for a moment, and then flared a bright electric blue and fluttered into the air.

"Thank you," she breathed with a smile, and began to follow her around the room. The scarab darted obligingly around the furniture. Sarah got abruptly queasy when she landed near the remains of her dinner. If Jareth had done something to that, he'd broken a promise and there was almost nothing he wouldn't do. But she merely settled near for a moment, and then flew off again. She finally alighted on top of the black jewelry box and started flashing urgently, black and gold.

"That bad, huh?" Sarah asked, tensing, leaning close and narrowing her eyes to better see the delicate shifts of color on her little friend's carapace. "Obedience," Sarah said bleakly, something sinking in her stomach like a stone. She looked down at the box, brimming with diamonds and slavery. Insidious, her friend warned. Almost impossible to detect.

"Well, then," Sarah said briskly, picking it up. The little scarab settled on the dresser as Sarah walked in a businesslike manner to the single small window set into the wall. It wasn't much more than a slit, but it was just wide enough. With a beatific smile on her face, Sarah chucked the diamonds out the window. She paused to listen. It made a very satisfying sound when it hit the ground.

Sarah turned swiftly back to her little friend, waiting patiently on the dresser.

"So," Sarah asked brightly, brushing her hands off. "Anything else?"

The boots that had caught her eye in the bottom of the wardrobe had something on them about easing the way along the road ahead for the person wearing them, which Sarah could live with. There was some kind of hair ornament for clear thinking, which she wouldn't have known how to put on anyway. The only other thing was the amulet around her neck, which had her little friend glittering strongly of protection.

Then the little scarab perched on top of her bag, and exploded in a riot of color. Sarah laughed, realizing she was being teased. She held out her hand, and the insect came into her palm willingly.

"Would you like something to eat?" she offered. " I can carry you outside."

The insect fluttered contentedly.

"No? Well, thank you for your help then, friend mine," Sarah said. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her shining carapace. When Sarah pulled away, it was once again just a little carved river rock. She replaced it in its secret pouch with a fond smile.

Then she sat back on the bed and had a serious think. There had been a lot less in the room that she expected. Those diamonds, though...nasty piece of work. Maybe he hadn't felt like he needed more.

Strange that it was jewels...hardly the way to her heart, so to speak. She'd thought Jareth had nailed it fairly well- despite her adventurous lifestyle, she was a sucker for a pretty bit of silk and lace. If she were him she'd have put something in the white dress instead of a box of diamonds.

Had he meant them for her? He must have, they were in the room. Sarah nodded, her mouth firming as she sighed. He had to have meant them for her. Everything else in the room was meant for her.

Which was creepy enough in itself.

Sarah shot to her feet with determination in her eyes. She pushed open the door and padded into the hall in bare feet, moving quickly now that she'd made her decision. She burst into the throne room, and realized immediately that she'd guessed wrong. It was dimly lit, and the only creature there was a hunched old goblin with a face like a catcher's mitt, pushing a mop wearily across the floor.

"I'm sorry, I was looking for the King," Sarah said automatically, moving to retreat. Then she did a double take. "Wait, someone around here actually cleans?"

"Oh, that's nice, some tart come up here to tell me how to do my business," it grumbled, and Sarah would have given odds from the voice that it was female.

"Who are you calling a tart?" Sarah demanded sharply. She put her hands on her hips. The old goblin turned her attention back to the floor she was mopping.

"Girl goes running around the halls naked, asking for the King and wants to know who's a tart," she peered up at Sarah grumpily. "Well if you don't know I can't tell yeh."

Sarah stiffened.

"I'm not...naked..." She looked down at the thin white shift she was wearing, and realized that with the brighter light from the hall, anyone in the darker throne room was seeing right through it, and getting an eye full of...almost everything, in fact. Sarah clamped her arms around her body in strategic places and started backing rapidly out into the hall.

"He's the thirteenth door on the left, if you're going looking," the gnarled little old goblin woman called after her. "Can't have tarts running about naked all over the castle..." she growled. Sarah nodded with a sick grin, and made a run for it.

She shut the door to her room behind her and started to laugh. She shook her head. It served her right for going off half-cocked. She snatched the beautiful ivy embroidered robe and wrapped it around her snugly. Then she took slippers from the wardrobe, walked back and forth in them for a minute to make sure they wouldn't fall off her feet if she was chased by untrustworthy Kings or angry old goblin ladies.

Satisfied in everything but her curiosity, Sarah crept back out into the hall. The old lady had not followed her, and she relaxed and stared counting doors. She needn't have bothered.

The door to the King's quarters was rather like a miniature of the doors to the castle, only more ornate and ostentatious. Sarah refused to use the knocker, it was making faces at her. She knocked with her hand, and after a moment the door swung open silently.

"Are you finding everything to your liking, Sarah?" He asked her before he saw her. She had a comment on her lips, something clever and irritating, but then she stepped out into the room and saw him, and everything else went right out of her head.

"Are you all right?" she asked in a small voice.

Jareth had a fireplace in his room large enough to call into mind the bowels of hell. He was lounging in front of it on some kind of low couch. He'd removed his shirt and coat, and put on a dark red robe, a thick velvet thing that did not close until it reached his hips. The skin on his chest was icy white. She did not know if it was the color of the robe, or the way he was seated, like he was trying to appear casual and poised but couldn't quite move past the exhaustion to get there. Either way, Jareth looked wasted, and Sarah spotted the change instantly, stiffening. He looked up at her with appraising eyes and made a quick decision, abandoning the pretense and sinking back against the cushions with a weary sigh.

"Can I get someone?" Sarah offered, stepping closer, but trying to keep a little distance between herself the the roaring fire. It was like a furnace in this room. She couldn't imagine how he wasn't sweating.

He shook his head, moving as little as possible, letting his eyes slide shut. Sarah looked down at his face and reminded herself of diamonds.

"I can go," she decided.

"You came here for something," Jareth said, still without opening his eyes. Sarah approached around the back of the couch, the sloping back of it saving her from some of the heat.

"...The room," she said finally, looking at him with sharp attention.

Jareth opened his eyes and glanced at her. He noticed the robe she was wearing, and his eyes flashed, pleased to see her in it.

"Ah," he said, and sat up. Sarah watched her hands brushing over the fabric on the back of the couch.

"You made that room for me," she said, glancing up to look at his profile outlined in flames. He had dark circles under his eyes.

Jareth smiled coldly and looked away.

"An ordinary girl like you?" he said to the fire.

"Yes," Sarah said, almost before he was done speaking.

"Do you like it?" he asked her in a very different tone of voice. He turned on the couch to look up at her and Sarah went quite still inside. It was strange, she got the distinct feeling it wasn't really the room he wanted to know if she liked. She wondered abruptly if he'd stood at her back earlier in the day so she had less chance of catching the look in his eye.

Oh, hell...

"How," she cleared her throat delicately. "How long have you had the room that way?" She asked him, sidestepping the question.

Jareth tilted his head, and smiled a crooked little smile that gave away nothing.

_Go back Sarah, before it's too late..._

For a minute the planets and the stars must have hit some kind of freakish alignment, because Sarah Williams suddenly saw right through the Goblin King. There was a bright magpie glitter of obsession in his eye, a steely shine of devotion. Some kind of volatile mix of desire and fascination. The Goblin King looked up at her in fierce adoration and something in her marveled to see a thing like that directed at her. It was like watching a tornado rip through the prairie. She stood in awe of a force that was terrible and beautiful and frightening.

Then he saw her face, what was in her eyes (and what wasn't), and something gentler surfaced for an instant that was much more surprising to see.

She bet he'd started on the room the day she'd left.

Sarah stayed calm and she looked at him warmly, though she did not smile. It would have been a terribly cruel thing for her to make him think she was laughing at him. Jareth nodded slightly, relaxing a little for some bizarre reason.

"Ah," he said quietly. Sarah nodded back, knowingly. Whatever the Goblin King had been doing, Sarah Williams had not spent the last eight years thinking of him. She refused to feel bad about that.

His voice had not been entirely sad. They had not said two words to each other, but Sarah was surprised to realize they understood each other quite well. He leaned back, relaxing against the couch again with a sigh. She would have expected fireworks, rage and threats. Maybe he was just too tired. Suddenly unreasonably fond of the man, she put a hand on his shoulder. Her littlest finger brushed his neck and she hissed in a breath, snatching her hand away.

"You're freezing!" she accused.

"Am I?" he asked unconcernedly, sprawling out a little over the pillows.

Sarah had moved to snatch up a blanket that had fallen on the floor, and paused, sat back on her heels.

"It's that thing out there, isn't it," she said, jerking her head toward the window. She stared at him as if she'd never seen him before. "What would happen to this place if you stopped fighting it?"

"Nothing good," Jareth said with a breath of laughter.

Sarah nodded, looking down at the blanket in her hands, thinking furiously. She wanted to trust her instincts. After a minute she got to her feet and handed the blanket to him, meeting his eyes.

"The diamonds," she said evenly. Jareth utterly failed to react. "I didn't like the diamonds," Sarah prompted, suddenly feeling lighter. "In my room. Everything else, just not them."

Jareth sat up a little straighter, and after going over her words, Sarah realized she might have just given him a bit of misplaced hope.

"That makes sense." Jareth smiled, amused. "They were the only thing in that room not made for you."

"Oh no?" Casually, casually. Sarah could act her ass off when she had to.

"Those jewels came with the castle. They're priceless, but they belong on a woman's neck," Jareth said easily. "Seemed fitting for a woman's room."

He didn't know. He really didn't know. Sarah forced herself not to grin, suddenly unreasonably cheerful. A woman's neck...they must have had some docile Goblin Queens back in the day. Priceless, docile queens.

Priceless.

Sarah felt her face go completely, carefully blank. In her mind she heard the sound the box made as it crashed into the flagstones below her window with crystal clarity. Internally, Sarah winced. She was going to have to take a walk outside at some point before bed. Maybe with a dustbin.

Sarah looked up, realizing she'd been standing mute for some time and intending to cover, but for the second time that night everything she'd been about to say was abruptly struck from her mind.

"What is it?" she hissed, stiffening.

Jareth had lost every ounce of color in his face. His lips were white.

"The blasted circle isn't holding," he growled, looking off at something she couldn't see. "It's breaking free inside the labyrinth."


	5. Chapter 5

The Lady and the Knight

Ch 5

The threat of sudden eminent destruction had invigorated the Goblin King. Sarah was running flat out, taking steps two at a time, and she still couldn't keep him in sight. The man was a force of nature in his own domain. He'd run for the door at a dead sprint and she'd dashed after him to find him tearing down a passageway that had appeared out of nothing directly across from his doorway. If Jareth needed to go somewhere in his castle it just got itself out of his way, making stairs and hallways out of solid stone to accommodate him.

The staircase she was plunging down took a sharp left and Sarah flung her arms out in front of her to avoid smashing her nose on the wall in front of her. Then she put her head down, turning and tearing down the stairs again at a suicidal pace, given the lack of any kind of railing to catch herself if she fell.

Oh, well, she thought, if she did fall, at least she'd get to the bottom faster. As if the castle was listening to her, a torch up ahead illuminated the base of the staircase. It opened out into a courtyard on the ground level. Outside.

It smelled like rain.

"Jareth!" she called, looking around wildly, her heart in her throat. It was black as pitch outside. She looked up and she couldn't see the stars. She stood there, blinking, waiting for her eyes to adjust. There was some light coming from the castle, but not enough. She turned around to look back the way she had come and jumped a little. All she had at her back was a blank wall. The stairs were gone.

Tricky, tricky...

After a moment spent listening, she heard something off to her left, and it focused her attention like a shot. Rustling. A man running past a hedge?

Sarah walked swiftly in that direction, moving in and out behind statues and slices of hedge, her hands out in front of her so she wouldn't run into anything. She heard a soft rumble of thunder. It sounded far away. Chilled, she shivered, rubbing at her arms.

"Wait," she said, her eyes widening, and she pushed her sleeves up and reached out with her bare arms, trying to feel which side of the courtyard felt colder. She caught a flicker of light casting the edge of a stone archway briefly into relief. Sarah moved cautiously toward it, wincing as the chill in the air developed a bite. She poked her head through and her eyes opened wide.

"Stop," a short, commanding tone.

Jareth was standing in front of a hole into hell. The old outline of glittering powder was still there. It was glowing brightly now, casting rippling blue shadows on the wall. The mark had swelled to cover the bottom edge, oozing down the wall. It was nearly the size of a door, and Sarah's heart shrank at the thought of what might come through. She could see it moving, as though something was pushing it from the other side. The motion was instinctively, terrifyingly foul. It was so black it sucked at her eyes, and even glancing at it for a moment drove a headache into the back of her head like a railway spike. She tore her gaze away, horrified of what would happen if it tried to take her now.

"My god..." she said weakly. She hadn't brought her bag. She didn't have anything with her, she'd just taken off after him without thinking. Stupid, stupid little girl! She couldn't even call for help without a mirror...

"Don't come any closer," Jareth warned her, holding up a hand without looking at her. Sarah hung back, curling her hands into fists, shivering as the temperature continued to drop. God, Jareth was bare-chested in this.

Sarah edged around the clearing, getting a better vantage point without getting closer. She wanted to be able to see his face in case something went wrong. In case...

Sarah squelched that thought firmly under her heel.

Jareth had a bag of something in his hand, but wasn't using it yet. He stood with his legs planted shoulder length apart, his eyes closed and his head bowed. He didn't look like he was doing much at all, but there was a quality of focused attention about him that put her on high alert.

Marshalling his forces...There was suddenly enough static electricity in the air to lift the hairs on her arms. The wind picked up and above their heads thunder grumbled, closer this time. Looking up at the sound, Sarah almost tripped over a wheelbarrow. She caught herself, scowling.

The wind abruptly brought her a whiff of something clean and fresh. Sarah looked down at the weeds filling the wheelbarrow. It had to be the Bemony Jareth had sent his goblins out after, but they hadn't planted it yet. It probably got too dark...and the weather was getting bad.

The thunder rumbled again, more enthusiastically.

The funny thing was, now that she looked at the little weed, it was familiar. Hoggle had shown it to her the first time she'd been to the labyrinth, after they'd met Sir Didymus at the bridge. Hoggle had pounced on it as soon as he'd seen it. They'd chewed it like tobacco leaves, and it had cut the stench of the bog dramatically. She remembered how it had tasted, sort of medicinal and clean. Sarah pulled a few leaves off, and acting on a hunch, shoved them in her mouth.

The clean smell filled her nostrils, and her headache melted away. Sarah straightened, surprised.

She glanced over at Jareth standing in front of the growing portal and could almost see something hovering around him, like a heat haze. She heard an awful scraping, groaning noise, and looked around wildly. It sounded like the entire labyrinth was drawing in on them. The stones at Jareth's feet almost seemed to grasp at him.

The hound coming at it's master's call. Even the walls were leaning toward him.

Sarah inched forward, unsettled. Over their heads, lightning cracked through the sky, flooding the area for an instant with light.

Jareth lifted the small black pouch as if it was enormously heavy. Into his glove he poured a small amount of brilliantly golden sand. He held it up. It was glowing, radiant with energy that cast eerie shadows on Jareth's face and lit up his eyes.

The portal, as if disturbed by this, actually swelled out from the wall as if it was reaching for him. Black tendrils burst out and Sarah saw the faint blue glow from the old binding circle flicker and die. She cried out a warning, horrified.

Jareth narrowed his eyes. He inhaled and blew the golden, glittering stuff of dreams at the black reaching thing. It shrieked, recoiling faster than the eye could follow. The sound intensified as the golden dust settled, cutting through flesh and cleaving away bone with pure, concentrated malevolence. Sarah clutched at her head and reeled. There was a terrible inhuman hatred larger than the whole world behind that noise. It was almost as if the thing wanted her to feel it before it was banished again.

Sarah went to her knees as the sound abruptly cut off. She looked up with watering eyes and saw the dark spot on the wall, larger now but once again ringed with a sparkling unbroken circle of golden sand. Sarah let out a breath of relieved laughter. Her ears were ringing.

Sarah looked to Jareth, a smile on her lips, and froze.

He lay crumpled and unmoving on the ground.

'The great beast lay defeated, but the King had fallen in battle, and all his men mourned the high cost of victory...'

"No," she ground out with iron determination. She scrambled to his side. He looked like a rag doll someone had dropped on the floor. He was so still...

"No, it doesn't end like this," Sarah told him, reaching out to turn him on his back. The story doesn't end this way, she thought. She would not accept this. Not happening. His limbs moved under her hands with the limpness of a fresh corpse, and she blanched. Then she pushed his dark red robe open wide and pressed her ear to his chest, shutting her eyes tightly. She did not think about how cold he was under the skin of her cheek.

A moment later Sarah sagged over him, her breath whooshing out in relief. Alive.

"Good god," Sarah said, pressing her hand to her face for a moment. Then, remembering herself, she looked around them, her hand resting on his chest protectively. The bag of sand had fallen from his senseless fingers, and she saw, to her horror, that some of it had spilled out onto the ground. She reached over and did her best to scrape it all back into the bag. Some of it clung to her fingers, making them glow and tingle a little. Then she took a deep breath, and with an untrusting glance over at the portal, got her hands up underneath Jareth's arms and started to drag him. She glared up at the portal as she did, the wilted leaves in her mouth somehow making it easier.

"I hate you, I hate you," she told it under her breath, a mantra as she pulled. The large black eye almost seemed to be watching them.

She pulled him over behind the wheelbarrow, just to get him out of line of sight from that...thing. Sarah set him down gently, and lingered over his hands, pressing them between hers, trying to warm them. Even through the soft leather of his gloves, she could feel he was ice cold.

God, she'd been useless. Useless! Jareth would have done better to ask Marcus to help him. She stood abruptly, stripping off her thick robe and bending down to tuck it tightly around him. She reached up and picked several leaves off the Bemony plants in the wheelbarrow, her fingers still glowing faintly. Sarah crouched down by his head.

Lightning flashed above them, highlighting his face. He looked awful.

"Jareth, you have to eat this," she said as she rolled the leaves between her fingers, bruising them. They darkened, releasing a fresh, clean smell. Sarah then tried to open his mouth, parting his lips and tucking the fragrant, mashed leaves between his cheek and his gums. He moved his head a little as she did it, trying to pull away, making a soft, petulant sound. "That's right," Sarah said with a smile. Her fingers were wet with the juices, so she put a little of it under his nose. He took a deep breath, stirring under her hands. She eased him up into her lap, rubbing his arms, trying to warm him.

His eyes fluttered open, and Sarah grinned like the sun rising. Jareth's lips parted slightly. He looked rather dazed. He raised his hand a little, and she took it gently, bringing it up and pressing it lightly against her cheek.

"Hello there," Sarah said softly.

"My dreams," Jareth said faintly, his eyes resting on their linked hands. "In your hands." He smiled faintly, letting his eyes drift shut. Sarah looked down in surprise, realizing her fingers were still glittering with the golden sand. The stuff of dreams...

"I'll take care of them," Sarah, said gently, touched. Jareth did not respond, and she realized he had slipped off again. His hand in hers was limp, and she tucked it back underneath her robe. His sleep this time seemed much more natural, so Sarah let herself relax a little. She looked around at the deserted courtyard in frustration. She would need help to get him back inside.

Just then, she heard the first pattering of rain against the stones, and she cursed like a sailor.

Jareth was dead to the world, and did not stir. She looked down at him with a pang. He was probably safer where he was by the Bemony than he would be anywhere else she could manage to get him.

"I'll be right back," she promised him, and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. She felt like a heel leaving him to get wet, but he wasn't going to get any drier with her here, and there was nowhere she could drag him that was out of the rain.

Sarah pounded on the first goblin door that she came to, hollering at the top of her lungs.

There was banging and cursing from within, and then a squat little creature poked his head out the door. He might have been about waist high to her.

"What do you want in the middle of the night?" it said bad temperedly. Sarah had been thinking as she'd been running and didn't blink.

"The Goblin King sent me to fetch you," Sarah lied smoothly.

"Oh, all right then," the goblin muttered, moving to follow her, but then froze. "Here now, it's after seven, you got to sound the alarm."

"What?" Sarah asked, bewildered.

"It's after hours, you got to sound the alarm," the goblin said slowly, as if she were stupid. "As if he'd send a bloody naked girl out to do his business," he added with a snort, and slammed the door in her face.

The rain started to come down in earnest, plastering her hair to her head. Sarah looked down at the thin white chemise she was wearing, and was abruptly put in mind of wet t-shirt contests. With a fraying of twine, Sarah's temper abruptly snapped.

There was a little three legged stool next to the door. Sarah picked it up, leaned back so that she could really put her body weight behind it, and smashed out his window.

The goblin came barreling out of his front door with murder on his mind. Sarah grabbed him by the neck and shoved him up against the side of his house.

"Now you listen to me, you pigheaded little idiot. I was sent to get goblins and by god," Sarah punctuated the words by knocking the goblin's head lightly against the wall, "I'm not going back without some. So if you don't help me you're not going to have to worry about what the king will do to you, because I'll dump you in the bog myself!" Sarah growled.

The goblin's eyes were round and white in the dim lighting.

"Well, you don't have to get upset about it..." he said nervously. Sarah let out a breath through her teeth and got a firm hold on the goblin's upper arm.

"Come on," she said tiredly.

The rest of the goblins were a bit easier to round up, but when she led them back to their fallen king they hung back, deeply impressed.

"The naked girl killed the king!" said one of them, in awe.

"He's not-" Sarah began quickly but stopped when the goblins abruptly prostrated themselves in front of her.

"Your majesty," said the one who'd window she had smashed out.

Sarah put her hand to her head and started massaging her temple.

"-dead," she finished weakly. She shook her head. "All right," she said briskly "I command," she gestured, "the six of you to get the Goblin King back inside the castle and up to his room." The goblins almost scrambled over each other in their haste to obey. Sarah tried not to think about what would happen in the morning when the King woke up and found out about this.

"You," she said to the goblin who's window she'd smashed. "what's your name?"

"Blotch, majesty," he said proudly.

"Take these two and fetch chisels and shovels, anything you would use to pry up these stones," Sarah said, tapping the flagstones with the toe of her slippers for emphasis. "I want you to bring them back here and wait for me. We're going to plant these." Sarah pointed at the wheelbarrow full of weeds.

The goblin's looked at her doubtfully, then up at the sky. Rain splattered on their heads.

"Well, get going!" Sarah growled. They jumped and beamed at her happily, running off. Sarah stared after them, mystified. It was like you had to yell at them to get them to do anything. Almost as if they liked it.

Sarah thought about fairy stories as she trudged back up to the castle. There were certain ways things had to be done, in fairy stories...


	6. Chapter 6

The Lady and the Knight

Ch 6

"It's a trick," Sarah realized. She was staring down at Jareth sprawled out senseless and beautiful on his couch by the fire. He was bare from the waist up, and his hair was dripping.

Sarah had caught up to the goblins just as they were bringing the King to his room. She'd instructed two of them to get him out of his wet clothes and into something warm. She hadn't quite had the nerve to stick around for that little show. The other goblins she sent out for picks and spades with strict instructions to wait for her before they did anything. She warned them not to get close to the black mark, not to even look at it.

Then she'd staggered off to her room to get a mirror and a warm cloak. Walking back out into the hall away from that wonderful, decadent looking bed was almost physically painful. She needed a cup of coffee so bad she could taste it. Living with Marcus for the past six months had spoiled her a bit for modern conveniences.

Sarah checked up on Jareth before going out again, and started thinking. She was looking at him, looking at the results of the evenings labors on his health and well being. Just dealing with a fraction of the power that was even now creeping across his lands had completely wiped him out, and after watching him, after watching the labyrinth reacting to him, Sarah thought she knew why.

Jareth and the labyrinth had a strong connection, something deeper than was apparent to casual observation. It had reacted to him in the courtyard. It had come at his call.

Sarah was used to the idea of inanimate objects seeming a bit active. Magical items often were. They took pieces of the person that had made them, and the results of this could be extremely unnerving, depending on the temperament of the person involved. The labyrinth had seemed that way when she'd gone through it the first time, changing and throwing things at her to impede her progress.

She was getting a view of the other side of it this time, and it left her suspecting there was a bit more to this than she'd originally thought. As they'd walked through the gates, Sarah would have sworn it almost seemed...eager to please. As she'd ran down twisting stairways to reach the courtyard, Sarah would say there had been a definite hint of alarm.

Magical things did not feel anything when they were used. They might react in a way that was almost alive, but they did not hate you if you abused them, or love you if they were well treated. They did not emote. Anything that did spoke of ominous, unspeakable things done during creation. Terrible things done to the creator.

The attack on the labyrinth, even though it was a small one, had a devastating affect on Jareth's health. It certainly indicated that the connection there was much stronger than it should be. Sarah wasn't sure if she wanted to know why. The range of possible explanations included many things too horrible to contemplate.

Regardless of why, the black portal had taken a lot out of him. Staring down at his exhausted face, Sarah got the idea that maybe that was the point.

It was a distraction, a trick. While the labyrinth itself was threatened, Jareth was weakened and had to concentrate all his energy on just protecting himself. If he failed to defend the labyrinth, he would languish and (Sarah assumed from what she'd seen) eventually die. If he succeeded, his attention was still focused almost exclusively on protecting himself, and the evil behind the portal could spread unopposed across the face of this world.

"Smart," Sarah thought with a sinking sensation. It wasn't always the case. Sarah had seen things like this on a smaller scale that hadn't been. Portions of terrible worlds that had seeped into others with no real intelligence behind it. Just awful things that needed to be killed. Something had come through...or was trying to come through, that was thinking. Sarah thought briefly about that scream of hate that had accompanied the binding of the portal, and shuddered at the thought of a thinking being behind that.

They needed to halt the spread of the portal here, and then go out and shut whatever gates that thing had opened into this world. Follow the Black Road to the source. It was a somewhat suicidal proposition, but Sarah didn't have a better one.

Sarah let out a breath, and wished desperately that Marcus was there with her, that her mirror could reach beings outside of the labyrinth. He'd been with her the first time she'd seen this. It was how they had met. He was much more experienced at this kind of thing than she was.

Sarah shook her head. Nothing she could do about it right then. What she could do was protect the gateway that thing was trying to make into the labyrinth, and see what affect it had on the health of the sovereign in the morning.

Sarah used her mirror, and when she exited the castle, she brought Ludo with her. He was not particularly pleased about the rain. He did, however, help enormously in the removal of the flagstones. Sarah watched everyone like a hawk, forcing the goblins to eat the weeds as they worked, snapping at anyone who looked up at the portal. She'd seen someone taken before, and she never wanted to again. You couldn't always tell, right away. Sometimes they acted normally for a while, until the taint grew inside them. Sarah did the work closest to the portal herself. Thankfully, the rain stopped sometime in the middle of the night, so while the work was muddy, it wasn't impossible.

When they were nearly done, she caught a goblin spitting out his leaves and went cold inside.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, tensing. She saw a good-sized rock nearby, perfect for smashing someone's head in. Sarah edged quietly toward it.

"Nothing," the goblin said. "Tastes funny."

"Take more," Sarah said in a flinty, deadly tone of voice. The goblin, startled, pulled a leaf off and shoved it into his mouth. Sarah relaxed like a balloon deflating. A tainted creature wouldn't be able to stomach the Bemony. A tainted creature would spit it out.

"Sarah all right?" Ludo asked, rather timidly for such a huge beast. Sarah threw him a relieved smile.

"I'm fine, Ludo," she reassured.

They were done before sunrise, though Sarah didn't really feel like thinking about how close to it they were. She thanked her crew, which seemed to upset them, and then called them ingrates and ran them off, which seemed to please them to no end.

Ludo followed her up and though she wanted to get in her bed so badly her teeth hurt, she searched around her room until she found a few things she could use to dry him off. Drying off a six foot tall beast with hair two feet long was an arduous process that involved a lot of towels.

Sarah turned from him to pull a few extra blankets off the bed, and when she turned back he was curled up on the carpet, snoring. Sarah smiled fondly and threw a blanket over him, patting him lightly on the top of his head.

"Goodnight, Ludo," she said gently, and kissed a large floppy ear.

She found a short white shift in a drawer and pulled it on, leaving her wet things in a pile, too tired to bother with them. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Sarah dreamed, and the dreams were not hers.

She was standing on a green hillside, with open fields and unobstructed sky as far as the eye could see. There was something that immediately caught her fancy about the place. The only word that came to her mind was saturated. Every blade of grass was sharp and perfect and crystal clear. The sky was filled with billowing white clouds, the patches of blue behind them impossibly bright. The wind tasted like everything that had ever been good in the world, condensed and perfected until it made a person lightheaded just breathing it.

There was a man walking toward her with his hands in his pockets. He had a look on his face that mirrored what she was feeling in her heart. This place was wide open, as if no one here had ever heard of a wall or a fence or a limitation of any kind. Sarah felt like she could take a step and soar away into the sky, utterly free. He looked like his heart was right there with her, sailing off through the clouds, so much so that his feet barely seemed to connect with the ground.

The man came closer, and she saw his mismatched eyes, watched his platinum hair sparkling in the sun like spider silk. He was human, and she wasn't sure why that struck her as strange. He smiled to see her and there was nothing devious or cold or enigmatic about the man. He was like this place. Wide open.

"Hello," he said, and started walking beside her. They were coming from nowhere, going to nowhere and that thought filled her with a sudden fierce joy. "I don't often meet people, in this place," he commented, and there was nothing behind it, nothing he cared to find out, he was just talking, casual and content. She nodded at him and that seemed to be all that needed to be said. It was a beautiful day. Something about the place just made a girl want to run and dance.

The wind teased at her hair, lifting it from the back of her neck and tossing it playfully into the air. Sarah laughed and shook her head, eyes sparkling. She looked up at him. He had a soft look in his eye.

"Are you alone here, then?" Sarah asked, charmed.

"No," he said, and gestured, pointing ahead of them. "She's here."

Sarah looked. Far off, out of reach, she could see a dark haired girl in a silver dress. Something about her snagged at Sarah's memory, and she tensed. She blinked her eyes, staring at her, knowing this was somehow important, something she needed to know.

She looked familiar, that girl.

Sarah turned to him, to question him, and her eyes caught on the terrible things on the man's wrists. He was manacled. The sight of something so completely ugly in such a beautiful place was an unpleasant shock.

"Your wrists-" she hissed, stiffening. They were practically medieval, huge iron monstrosities that trailed several links of broken chain. She could see where the metal had cut into his skin and left scars.

They didn't belong here, Sarah thought with venom. In a place like this, they were almost obscene. She'd never wanted to destroy something so much in her life.

The man reacted in a nonchalant way, lifting both hands up for her to see clearly.

"It's all right, see?" he said, twisting his hands, showing her the swinging links of broken chain. Showing her that while he was manacled, he wasn't chained to anything.

Sarah frowned, troubled.

"If you're sure," she said doubtfully.

He smiled at her with effortless charm and turned once more to look at the girl in the silver dress. His attitude was somewhat reminiscent of a priest regarding his altar. A sort of reverent possessiveness.

She was walking away from them, the sun at her back, making her glitter as she moved. There was something wild and fierce about her that Sarah rather enjoyed watching. Sarah noticed her new friend was walking at a pace that ensured he would not catch up with her. She glanced up at him to question him about that, but she saw the look on his face and paused, softening.

"Do you ever talk to her?" she asked gently of the smitten fellow beside her. The man took a deep breath.

"No," he said softly, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. "I wouldn't have the heart to tame her."

Sarah smiled at him sadly, and turned to look at the object of his affection. He hissed in a breath beside her and stopped in his tracks just as Sarah realized the girl was turning around to look at them.

The girl had Sarah's face.

Sarah awoke with a start, surprised out of sleep. She blinked up at the ceiling, processing what had just happened. It had not felt anything like a dream. She was, in fact, possessed of an oddly solid certainty that it hadn't been. Sarah almost never remembered her dreams, and when she did, they were fragmented and unreal. Strange. Not a dream. Then what?

Sarah lifted her hand to rub at her eyes and stopped, staring. It was morning, but the room only had the one small window and it was dim. She could see her hands quite clearly, however, because they were glowing.

The stuff of dreams...

Sarah sat up stiffly, and held out her hands in front of her, examining them. Ludo, still sleeping on the rug, snuffled a little in his sleep, like a large dog.

She'd done plenty with her hands last night, in the rain no less, but the dust hadn't washed off. It looked instead like it had soaked into her skin somehow. She scratched at a spot on her palm. Definitely under the surface.

_'My dreams...in your hands.'_

Sarah thought back on her strange dream that had not been a dream and her eyes went wide. Not dreams as they come at night, blurred through the subconscious and strained through the flotsam of everyday life. Dreams as in hopes and dreams. Dreams as in the deep desires of the heart. The dreams Jareth had offered her in her parents' bedroom when she was still a child.

Sarah was at once horrified at the sacrifice, at the risk he was taking, and admiring of his audacity. He was fighting the devil with his own heart. It was as daring as anything she'd ever heard of.

His own heart. To her own surprise, Sarah found herself tearing up a little. It wasn't because she'd found herself in his heart, she'd pretty much known that yesterday when she first realized this room had been made for her. A shrine made in her absence. What did bother her was the sudden understanding she had of why.

She was certain he had watched her, on her travels. At least a little bit. She remembered the bright glint of fascination in his eye last night before they'd run outside to face down hell. She remembered how not only had the dresses fit her, they'd suited her. They were not only things that she looked good in, but things that she would like. She highly doubted a brief peek in on her sailing to the party on Marcus' boat had been the entirety of his spying. She understood now that it hadn't only been because he cared for her. It had been because she'd had something he desperately wanted.

Of all the people who had ever run the labyrinth, and Sarah was sure there had been many, Jareth had turned his eyes on her. The girl who'd refused him. The girl who'd refused anyone who'd ever tried to tame her, to tie her down. She flitted about the whole of creation with fire and wonder in her eyes. Sarah with the human heart and the inhuman smile. She went wherever the wind took her.

Jareth was the Goblin King, and a force of nature in his own domain. He lived in his imposing castle in the center of the twisting ways of his labyrinth, bound about with magic and gifted with great power. Tied here, forever.

_'You won't be caught there as I was.'_

The only thing Jareth wanted was the one thing Sarah had always taken for granted, and the shock of that, the terrible pity of that was enough to put tears in her eyes.

The Goblin King wanted to be free.

* * *

_author's notes-_

_Kore-of-Myth- I'm beginning to suspect you of mind reading. Tsk, tsk. I fear those with strange powers. I may have to put more semi-clothed Jareth in to appease you.  
_

_AmericanWoman- Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the diamonds!  
_

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

The Lady and the Knight

CH 7

Sarah wiped her eyes with her glowing fingers and got out of bed. Someone had taken her pile of wet, dirty clothes and left her hot bathwater in a tub in exchange. She glanced over at Ludo, then shrugged and decided to go for it. She even had clean towels.

Twenty minutes later Sarah was standing in front of the wardrobe, feeling somewhat human again. After a moment of thought, she took the silver dress out and put it on. It might have been a cruel thing to do...or an extremely kind one. He could have taken it out of her closet if he'd wanted to spare himself.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Sarah looked like a creature out of myth. The skirt gleamed like starlight. After a moment of thought, she took her little scarab friend out of her bag and tucked it in her sleeve. Then she took her compact and tucked it into the waistband.

There. As ready as she could get, in a place where anything could happen. Pity creatures of myth tended to run low on pockets.

Sarah ducked quietly out of her room so as not to wake Ludo, and went looking for people, and perhaps something that resembled food. She heard things talking in the throne room, so she headed that way with a swishing of skirts.

The throne room was filled to bursting with goblins, and Sarah had a single, pitying thought for the old goblin lady who would be cleaning the place up later. Then her attention was caught by a rather extraordinary sight. Seven or eight of Jareth's crystal spheres were hovering in the air in a vague grid-like pattern. Jareth was walking around them and between them, looking relatively healthy, talking with the goblins about scouts and terrain.

Sarah was surprised. Had she come in the middle of battle plans? Then one of the goblins from last night saw her in the doorway, and squawked loudly.

"It's the naked lady!" He shouted, pointing at her. Sarah flushed beet red.

Jareth whirled and looked at her. He saw her in the dress and his eyes widened. Still blushing, Sarah managed a smile, relieved that she'd guessed right. Jareth was pleased she'd worn it. Very pleased, by the look on his face. Sarah's smile got a little wider.

Jareth lifted an eyebrow, and stepped away from his spheres. He looked nearly himself again, like a man who'd come out the other side of an illness. There was a gleam in his eye that she was pleased to see. He was wearing black. He looked rather dashing in black, Sarah decided. She was particularly fond of the leather pants.

"Ah," he said, his voice going quite chilly. "Your Majesty. Good afternoon."

Sarah's smile slipped a notch. He'd heard about the prostrating...maybe she was not so pleased he was himself again, after all.

"I think," he said, his voice edging over into glacial, "that you may have dropped something-"

Sarah lifted her eyebrows, puzzled.

"- out your bedroom window last night," Jareth said, and tossed her something that sparkled. Sarah caught it on reflex. It was a large diamond. It had obviously once been set into something. There was a sad little bit of twisted gold still attached to one side.

Sarah's smile dropped from her face and made a run for the door, casting worried looks back at her as it went.

Obedience, she thought then, looking at the shining thing in her hand, and dropped it like it was on fire.

Jareth blinked at that. One of the goblins picked it up off the floor and started running around with it. Neither she nor Jareth paid it any mind.

"There should be," Jareth continued, recovering, "several dozen other pieces of priceless antique jewelry here as well, but I'm afraid after the fall from your window they are more like several hundred," he narrowed his eyes, "_very small_, pieces of priceless antique jewelry."

Sarah smiled weakly, and made a small squeaking sound.

"I can explain?" she said faintly.

Jareth made a motion for her to follow him that would absolutely brook no refusal.

"Do," he said ominously, his voice echoing though the throne room.

As she followed him out he leaned back a little and said, too quietly for the goblins to hear,

"If I'd known you didn't like them that much I would have just had them taken away," Jareth gave her a devilish look that let her know just how much he was enjoying her embarrassment and Sarah almost threw her shoe at his head, just on principle.

Instead she stepped up beside him and slid her arm through his, making him jump in an extremely satisfying way. Quietly, so the goblins wouldn't hear, she leaned over and spoke into his ear.

"You are an arrogant wretch, and you will come to a bad end," she advised him with cheerful venom. Jareth snorted in an extremely refined and uppity way, which impressed her, because it was something she'd never imagined to be possible.

"Now," he said when they were well clear of goblin ears, "What, _precisely_ led you to take out your frustrations on the crown jewels?" he was not, despite his teasing, entirely unannoyed with her, and it showed in the sharpness of his question. Sarah was very glad she'd decided to wear the silver dress. It seemed to be giving her a leg up. She would have expected to be in an oubliette by now.

For a moment she cursed herself. She'd meant to go down and get the mess swept up and she'd forgotten! She could have hidden the stupid diamonds under her bed. He wouldn't have found out about it for years, centuries if she was lucky. Damned portals. Damned unconscious Kings.

"I found something on them...what were the old goblin queens like?" Sarah asked.

Jareth looked at her as if she had asked him what kind of underwear he preferred.

"Queenish, I suppose," he said, mystified.

"I bet," Sarah said darkly, scowling. Jareth started to look angry, dark threads making their way through his blond hair. Sarah reached swiftly into her sleeve and pulled out her little scarab friend. She held it up close to Jareth's face so he could see. Jareth looked intrigued despite himself.

"And this is?" he prompted.

"A friend of mine," Sarah replied, and breathed on her.

Jareth watched the transformation with interest, his eyebrows shooting up when her little wings started fluttering.

"Hello, little friend," Sarah said kindly. "will you do a little looking around for me today?"she asked.

The beetle obligingly flashed blue. Sarah looked up at Jareth.

"Do you have another one of those diamonds?" she asked him. Bemused, he riffled through his pockets and came up with a smaller stone.

Her little friend had landed on her necklace first, flashing cheerfully about protection, good clean protection, very nice.

"Protection," Sarah translated, "good protection, and nothing else."

Jareth's eyebrows shot up.

"You can understand it?" he asked. Sarah gave him a smug look that obviously exasperated him.

The beetle flitted over to the stone in Jareth's hand. She flashed yellow and gold, agitated.

"Obedience." Sarah said grimly. "Insidious and thorough submission." She glanced up under her eyelashes at him. "You shouldn't carry it any more. You shouldn't keep any of it close to you."

Jareth looked vaguely horrified.

Then the beetle fluttered up and landed on his ruffled shirt. Jareth stepped back and Sarah put a hand up quickly. This was what she had really wanted to see.

"It's all right," Sarah reassured.

Her little friend went utterly black, with little silver streaks of mourning showing through.

"A cage," Sarah said softly, looking up at him with unhappy comprehension. "Captivity. Very strong, going right down to-"

"Enough," Jareth said, snatching her hand. He looked unsettled. "Enough." He took a deep breath as if he was about to say something, and then shook his head. Jareth removed the little beetle, giving Sarah an anxious moment, but he only turned her hand palm up, and placed the little insect there. Sarah held her close, and thanked her, and gave her a little kiss to put her to sleep again.

She saw Jareth's eyes flash when she did this, but dismissed it. There was no way he was jealous of a scarab beetle. Sarah tucked it away again, and realized Jareth was still staring at her hands. After a moment, he reached for them.

"Let me see," he said, his face white. Mystified, she held her hands out, surprised when he snatched at them and held them up close to his face. Then she remembered the golden glitter her hands had picked up last night. She wasn't sure if he remembered waking up after she'd got the Bemony into him. He turned her hands, examining them carefully, testing as she had. Finding as she had that the golden sand had sunk beneath her skin.

"I thought it was..." Jareth said softly, almost to himself.

"A dream?" Sarah prompted. He looked up at her, and she had a split second to realize that she had said the wrong thing before he pushed her back up against the wall. He didn't have to touch her- he just started coming at her with a fairly murderous look in his eye and she backed herself up quite helpfully against the nearest vertical surface.

"What did you see," he snapped at her.

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. Jareth moved back half an inch.

"What," he prompted, calmer. Sarah hesitated, softening at the anxiousness she could see flickering behind his eyes.

"'A far green country, under a swift sunrise.'" Sarah quoted gently, and he flinched. "You talked to me," she continued, and Jareth caught his breath. "It was very beautiful there."

"I thought," Jareth said faintly, as if someone else was talking, "you would like it."

Sarah relaxed, and almost smiled at him.

Jareth leaned in and kissed her.

She wasn't expecting it; If she had seen it coming she probably would have ducked. That was probably why Jareth had done it that way. However...

Jareth, she discovered, was a very fine kisser. Very fine indeed. He had a nice mouth and a lot of passion and Sarah was suddenly remembering exactly how long it had been since someone had kissed her like that. He went very still for a moment when he felt her responding to him. Then he made a noise, a soft little noise that shot a dagger right through her heart.

Sarah realized, when she heard that noise, just how cruel she was being. This meant so much more to him than it did to her...

It was somewhat difficult to stop kissing him once she'd started. He'd started moving his mouth differently, slow, tasting her, and his hand started to wander down the back of her dress, pressing her tightly against his chest. Sarah turned her face from him and he started to kiss her lightly down her neck. Her body suddenly leaped to attention, deciding without her that it rather liked this idea.

Sarah thought abruptly of the Jareth she had met in his dreams, of the quiet adoration in his eyes as he'd looked out at the girl with her face. He loved her, but she...she was leaving the labyrinth, once she'd done what she promised to do. Sarah had been in this position before, it never ended well. She'd hurt people before. It was an effective splash of cold water on her interest. She swallowed hard and started to push lightly against his chest, leaning back. He froze up a little and then let her, but when she saw his face she found she suddenly didn't like herself very much. She should've just slapped him. It probably would have hurt him less.

Jareth stepped away, turning from her for a moment. She saw his fists clench, watched his body language turn very cold.

"I suppose you'd like to check on your handiwork from last night," Jareth said distantly, as if they'd never met before. Sarah flinched.

"Yes..." she said, swallowing hard and hoping he would fob her off on somebody else. Anybody else. "Sure."

"This way," he said shortly, and started walking. Sarah sighed quietly. No such luck.

He walked fast enough so that he was ahead of her the whole way. He was moving like a hurt thing. She got the impression that he didn't want to have to look at her.

She was startled at what she found in the courtyard. The Bemony weeds that they had planted in the ground by the portal last night had been perhaps a foot high at the largest. The plants she saw had almost enveloped the entire wall. She couldn't even see the portal. Sarah stepped closer, intrigued, and saw that the plants had grown little feelers and hooked them into the wall so they could grow up as well as out. It was pretty damn impressive, she had to admit.

"You know, I bet this plant feeds on... I don't know, foulness I suppose." she tried to peek in and see if the portal had shrunk, but Jareth grabbed her and hauled her back firmly.

"It's still there," he said, and sighed. "Contained, however. Now, I assume you would like to return to your celebration as soon as possible?" Jareth said stiffly, as if he had never kissed her.

"Return?" Sarah said, feeling dim. Jareth raised an eyebrow.

"I see you've neglected to bring your bag, perhaps you should fetch it. As you've done your best to help in this situation I can ask no more of you," Jareth said, as if explaining things to a child. "Our bargain is fufilled," he almost managed to sound like he didn't care. Almost.

Sarah suddenly realized with a jolt what that kiss in the hallway had really been about. He'd thought it was his last chance.

Sarah sat down right on the flagstones. Oh, this was funny. Ha. Ha. She put her hand up and rubbed at her temple.

"You can't tell me you want to stay," Jareth said, bitterly, refusing to react to her obvious discomfort.

"You idiot," Sarah said with a sigh.

Jareth went very still.

"What?" he said slowly, dangerously.

"You've looked in on me, spied on me before, don't deny it!" Sarah snapped, too irritated to care.

Jareth narrowed his eyes.

"Not enough," Sarah sighed, shaking her head. "Not enough."

"What?" Jareth said, startled.

"My best, Jareth, I promised you my best, and you don't even know what my best is, do you?" Sarah said, putting her head in her hands. She'd agreed to this to help her friends, she reminded herself. If given another chance, she'd do the same thing again.

Jareth abruptly kneeled beside her, shocking her.

"Tell me what you mean," he said, his voice tense, his whole body tense. Sarah saw him holding back hope in his eyes, and felt like the worst piece of filth in the world.

She reached out and took his hands, though she supposed she really didn't deserve to.

"Jareth, I've done this before," she said quietly. "I've never ridden a Black Road because I've never seen a place get so bad as that," she paused. Jareth looked mesmerized and he nodded, encouraging her. "But I have closed the gates," she hesitated, then corrected herself. "I helped close the gates between a terrible world and a good one once."

She shrugged helplessly. Her best was quite a lot. She was committed to seeing this through until the end of it.

"A mortal girl cannot be expected to do so much," Jareth protested, looking torn between horror and joy. She would stay here, but he had to let her ride into hell. Good, bad.

Sarah slapped the stones with one hand. There were rules to making a deal with a magical creature, and consequences to breaking one. He knew that better than anyone.

"We made a bargain, Goblin King. How long do you think it will be, if I go, before I find myself right back here again? It's old magic, much older than you are." Sarah shook her head, her voice wry. "How likely do you think it will be that I'll still have all my fingers and toes when I'm tossed back here?"

Jareth looked down at her hand in his.

"Not very," he said, and sat down beside her.

Sarah scooted over and leaned on him a little bit. He looked like he needed it. She sure did.

* * *

_Author's Notes-_

_Helena Darjeeling- as for certain powers, the movie seems to think she does, and who am I to argue?_

_Lixxle and Kore-of-Myth- Jareth is regrettably clothed in this chapter. However, he does have some very nice leather pants, so it evens out._


	8. Chapter 8

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 1- Starting Out

CH 8

"Sarah stay," Ludo urged, distressed. Sarah sighed, looking over at him affectionately.

"I can't, Ludo. I'm sorry. I have to do this." She reached over and stroked the fur on his arm for a moment before turning back to where she had dumped her bag out on the bed.

She'd laid out her gear, so to speak. When she'd left home, years ago, her bag had held mostly clothing. All the clothing she carried with her right now was a dark green leather jerkin that she'd received as a gift on her twentieth birthday. It was warm and she'd managed not to tear it to bits yet. Sarah had a sinking feeling that staying warm was going to be a difficult problem on this trip.

She had her mirror, and her little scarab friend, and a small carved wooden box with a latch on it. There was a tree intricately carved into the lid, and Sarah ran her fingers over it with a soft smile. It had once held a seed more valuable than every ounce of gold on planet earth. She had lost the seed, tossed it away for the sake of a friend. Marcus had never forgiven her for it.

There was also a very professional-looking lock picking kit, a small silver bowl, and several credit cards. She had, in addition, a small Ziplock baggie filled with white rice, a very unusual looking deck of playing cards, a set of old fashioned 3-D movie theater glasses, a Swiss Army knife and a half eaten stick of what looked like beef jerky wrapped in cellophane. Sarah picked it up with a long suffering sigh.

"I really, really hope I don't get down to you again," she said mournfully.

"Sarah share?" Ludo said hopefully.

"Ludo," Sarah said with a sigh, "knock yourself out." she unwrapped the jerky from the cellophane. The familiar smell made her wince. The meat-like product had a slight iridescent sheen to it, like motor oil. She handed it to Ludo, who attacked it with gusto.

Sarah started shoving everything back into her bag, and then went to the closet, ignoring the finery and going for the boots that had caught her eye earlier. Hard to go wrong with magic boots. She pulled them on over her pants and tried them out, jogging in place for awhile. They were shockingly comfy. Then she pulled her jerkin over her white shirt and twisted to the side to get the laces done.

Her door opened. It had to be Jareth because he didn't knock. Oh no, the Goblin King would never knock...

She gave him a brief glance, and returned to lacing up her clothing.

"Something I can do for you?" Sarah said casually without greeting him. He'd been rude first.

Jareth looked annoyed for a moment, but rallied quickly.

"It occurred to me," he said, "that the journey ahead is liable to be a cold one. I brought you this," he produced a cloak from nowhere with a flourish, and despite herself Sarah's eyes went wide. It was fur, thick and dark and shiny. She could have trekked to the North Pole in a cloak like that. She reached out and stroked it, breathing out a quiet exclamation at how soft it was.

Jareth looked terribly pleased with himself.

"Do you want it?" he asked gently, with a narrow little smile. Sarah let out a breath of laughter.

"What's the price?" She asked, charmed. Jareth lifted his eyebrows and turned, lifting the cloak away from her hands.

"A kiss," he said lightly, "nothing more."

Sarah's smile dropped a little.

"At a time and place of my choosing," Jareth continued, and her smile faded entirely. She eyed the cloak with frustration. Dammit, she would need that thing. She'd been worried about the cold.

"Of course," Jareth added coolly, "you could always shave the yak to make one," he eyed Ludo pointedly. "He looks as though he could use it."

Ludo straightened sharply, dropping the jerky stick he'd been eating. Sarah darkened furiously and opened her mouth to snap at the King, but Ludo beat her to it.

"Not yak," he growled unhappily. "Ludo. King bad man!"

Jareth lifted his eyebrows.

"Is that so?" he asked with dangerous amusement.

"Ludo not afraid of-" Ludo did not finish his sentence, because he had vanished. The floor quickly sealed the hole that had appeared under Ludo's feet. Unlike Sarah, he had not had the influence of a silver dress to save him.

"Bring him back!" Sarah demanded.

Jareth smiled a cold, crooked smile. She hated the sight of it on his face.

"Really, Sarah. I can't imagine you'll pine away from the lack of his scintillating conversational skills," Jareth said, strolling casually around her, forcing her to turn to keep him in sight. As she did she caught a glimpse of his face and froze, startled. He looked quite put out. Almost...sullen.

He could not be jealous of Ludo. The kind of world where that happened was just too weird even for her. But then she suddenly flashed on the sensation of Jareth's cheek rubbing against her shoulder, at the way he had delighted in taunting Hoggle through her mirror. Surely he couldn't be jealous, Sarah thought, but the internal voice that thought it suddenly sounded rather unsure of herself.

"You can't just throw a friend of mine into an oubliette for no reason-" Sarah began heatedly.

"I can do whatever I like!" Jareth snapped, and for a moment, the emotion behind his anger was written on his face with embarrassing clarity.

Well I'll be dammed, Sarah's internal voice said in shock, its internal jaw hanging open. Jareth was jealous of Ludo.

Sarah took a long, calming breath, and reached out for the cloak. Jareth's eyebrows lifted high, but he allowed her to take it.

"Please let him out," Sarah said sweetly. Jareth's jaw dropped a little. Sarah's internal voice looked at her as if she was insane.

"Please?" she asked again, tilting her head to the side a little. She held the cloak close to her chest, like a living thing. It was too beautiful to treat casually. Jareth noticed this, how reverently she treated his gift, and straightened a little, damn near preening in front of her.

Sarah absolutely did not smile in triumph. Two could play dirty.

"He's outside, in the courtyard," Jareth said casually, as if he'd merely turned him loose on a whim. He looked down at the cloak in her arms, then up at her face with sharp eyes.

"At a time and place of my choosing," he reminded her, anticipation in his eyes. Sarah's lips thinned, but she nodded. At the moment, she could care less about hurting him. At the moment, Sarah's internal voice piped up, she would be perfectly willing to tap dance over his heart in soccer cleats. Besides, she wouldn't be seeing him until she got back, anyway.

Sarah moved to take her bag off the bed but froze, suddenly remembering something. She set the cloak gently next to her bag and crouched down, looking for where the stick of jerky had fallen. It had rolled over by the chair and she picked it up, dusting it off. Ludo had slobbered over one end quite effectively, but it looked no smaller than it had when she'd handed it to him.

"As sovereign of this land, I forbid you to eat that," Jareth said in disgust. Sarah nearly smiled at him, covered it by turning to her bag and retrieving her Swiss Army knife. If only he wasn't so charming, she could dislike him properly...

"Believe me," she said, snipping off the slobby end of the jerky with the little fold out scissors, "I'd love to oblige you." The snipped end fell to the floor; However the half eaten stick did not appear to get any smaller.

"What is that," Jareth asked, looking intrigued and repulsed.

"This," Sarah said, holding it up, "is desperation."

Jareth laughed, startled. It made him look almost human when he laughed like that.

"It's soy, mostly. Food. Sort of." Sarah said, wrapping the stick up again and stuffing it in her bag. "It never runs out, which isn't necessarily a good thing." She pulled the bag over one shoulder, cradled the cloak in her arms, and turned to him.

"Have you got the crystals?" she asked him. He'd promised to provide her with the magical firepower she would need to seal the gate, when she found it. Actually getting to the gate would be her problem. "I'll need some serious heat when I get there," Sarah did not say 'if'. Sarah did not even let herself think 'if'. The last time she had done this she had been with a party of three other people. Two of them had ended up dead.

"Everything is taken care of," Jareth soothed. "Your horse is saddled and ready."

Ah, yes, Sarah thought with a sinking feeling. Her horse.

"Well, then," she said briskly, covering her discomfort. "I'm off." She was not surprised when Jareth followed her. She was surprised when they passed a window and the light suddenly illuminated what he was wearing.

He'd stayed in the shadows in her room, and she hadn't picked up on it, but he was in armor. Just a breastplate, of some strange nearly-black metal. It looked very nice with the dark blue shirt and cloak, but it seemed strange for him to be wearing it in his own castle. Sarah frowned at him suspiciously.

Then they exited into the courtyard, and she cursed herself for a fool. There were two horses waiting for them.

"You are not coming," Sarah said immediately, stiffening.

"Sarah," Jareth said reasonably, "It's my kingdom to protect."

"You're the King, for heaven's sake, you-" she grasped around desperately for a reason. "You need to stay and protect the portal!"

Jareth smiled in a way that tried for innocence, but crashed and burned about five miles short of it.

"But you've already taken care of that, precious thing," Jareth said smoothly, and Sarah had to shut her eyes for a moment to keep her temper. He walked over and mounted his horse with a casual grace that made her want to strangle him, and then he looked over at her as if saying 'well?'.

Sarah approached her horse carefully, watching it for any sign of panic.

"I don't suppose, since you're going, you could make yourself useful and just magic us along the road, could you?" she asked hopefully.

Jareth sighed impatiently.

"If we are not concerned with every creature watching for it knowing exactly where we are and when we plan to strike, then yes, Sarah, we could do that," He suddenly frowned at her. "Is something wrong?" He hesitated. "You do know how to ride, don't you?"

"Yes, I know how to ride," Sarah said irritably, edging over beside the animal so it could see her clearly. "Horses just don't like me." The horse she was currently worried about didn't seem too thrilled about her either, but he wasn't actively trying to stomp her to death, which Sarah regarded as a positive step in their new relationship.

"Really," he said dryly.

Her horse chose that moment to try to step on Sarah's foot, tossing his head in a displeased manner when he missed. Sarah eyed him warily. He looked back at her with a gleam of distaste in his eye.

"Really," Sarah said, with her heart in it.

"Odd," Jareth mused. Sarah looked up at him and gave him her not-quite human smile, her eyes pale and strange. Every place tried to change the people that traveled through it, to mold them to fit that world's rules. Sarah had been to some weird places.

"They don't like the way I smell," Sarah explained, "They'll get used to it eventually." She sort of sidled up to her horse and hopped up before he could decide to have another go at her.

Sarah made a lot of soothing sounds, patting him and telling him what a magnificent fellow he was. The horse, open to flattery, settled underneath her.

Sarah turned to the King with a question on her lips, and found him leaning over on his horse so his face was closer than she expected it to be.

Very deliberately, he sniffed.

"Mad things, horses," He said after a moment of thought, surprising Sarah into laughter.

"Sarah!" came a happy bellow. Sarah turned in the saddle, her laughter dying, suddenly feeling a bit bad for joking with the King after the lousy way he'd acted.

"Ludo," she said warmly, and nudged her horse to step away from Jareth's.

The horse was completely unfazed by Ludo, and Sarah gave him a kiss on the forehead goodbye, since she could actually reach while she was mounted. Ludo lumbered off happily, and Sarah turned to face a scowling Goblin King.

"You should have somebody here to watch the portal," she said, ignoring the nasty look. "I know someone who-"

"More friends of yours," Jareth said swiftly, and Sarah winced inside, realizing she'd blown it. "No." Jareth said simply, and urged his horse on. Sarah looked doubtfully in the direction of the portal, and then followed him with a sigh, shaking her head.

It wasn't until she'd been riding beside him for some time that she realized she'd been tricked. He was grave and silent as they rode, obviously upset with her, but his breastplate was glittering like graphite in the sun, his hair was shining like some kind of otherworldly halo, and his horse was strutting along like the magnificent specimen of horseflesh it was.

All he needed to do was start singing 'tirra lirra', she thought idly, and stiffened.

She'd been had. He'd been the King, the Goblin King, the proud ruler the hero helped to save the kingdom. The king never got the girl. But Jareth had changed it. He'd changed the rules, she couldn't believe it!

_'I have no love for you, proud King, but I care for those in your kingdom that have shown me kindness and called me friend. For them I will help you, and aid your cause as best I can...'_

The Labyrinth was an in between kind of place. A person needed a story to anchor herself here. Sarah had picked the story on the fly because it had seemed appropriate for the situation, and appropriate for him, she admitted to herself. Jareth was a king, but he wasn't playing the king in the story anymore. Jareth had switched it when he'd decided to come with her. Jareth was playing the Knight now, she realized with a groan. He'd changed the rules.

That clever bastard.

* * *

_Author's note-_

_Much thanks to Kore-of-Myth for taking time to Beta for me, and doing such a damn fine job of it. May stuffed bunnies filled with money fall repeatedly upon her head. (or just to the side of it, if she'd prefer)  
_

_AmericanWoman- Sarah knows Jareth really (obsessively) fancies her, and she doesn't plan on staying when she's done. Be a bit cruel to shag him and drop him, at least I think so..._


	9. Chapter 9

_NOTE: This is Day **four** in our heroes' journey._

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 4- Monsters

CH 9

Sarah scrabbled at the ground, pulling out clumps of grass as she was dragged along through the undergrowth. Mud slid through her fingers as she clawed for purchase. Snarling, she aimed a vicious kick at the thing that had hold of her leg. It contacted solidly, and she twisted around on her back as the thing growled, stumbling. It was so cold it felt like it was burning her skin where it had grabbed her, even through the cloth of her pants.

From far behind her, she heard a horrified shout.

"Sarah!" Jareth had noticed her absence.

She hissed in a breath, terrified as the creature went for her throat. Twisting to the side, she pushed her elbow up into the thing's mouth, forcing it back. It was too dark where it had dragged her to see much else but the white gleam of its icy skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another one, its pale hide giving it away, coming up on her right. She looked over with panic in her eyes, barely holding her own against one, and her faintly glowing hand connected with a deathly cold white shoulder.

Her hand flashed brightly, shooting sparks, and she felt warmth flare up her arm all the way to her shoulder. The thing hissed, recoiling from her. There was a smell of scorched flesh. Sarah looked at her golden, glittering fingers with wide eyes.

"Oh, yes," she said, grinning viciously, and walloped it in the face. Its skin at point of contact ignited like sodium in water and it shrieked, clutching at the smoking black hand-print on its terrible white face. It fell away from her but the one on her right leaped to take its place before she could get up, pinning her arms down, leaning close to her. She stiffened, expecting to be mauled, but it only pressed its face in, moving its head as she jerked hers away. The Bemony leaves in her mouth exploded with scent and flavor, as if reacting to something. The monster was trying to get her to look it in the eye, she thought with a stab of fury, struggling against the press of its weight on her arms.

Smart, damn it, too smart... Sarah looked up at it, pushing the leaves around in her mouth, and spat them in its face. It fell back with a wail of agony, as the wet, well chewed leaves exploded to life, growing and tangling around the beastly thing as if it was the best meal it had ever seen. Sarah scrambled to her feet and ran for her life. She got about ten feet back the way she'd come before she realized that her pack had come off as she was being dragged, and she cursed, searching the ground, scrambling around through the undergrowth as she followed the crushed plant life that marked the path back to where she'd been grabbed.

She'd just spotted it, when she heard a cry.

"_Sarah!_" there was a hint of real desperation in the voice now, and the sound of it plucked her heart like a violin string. Sarah snatched up her pack and took off running again with real worry riding high in her chest. About twenty feet ahead of her, the undergrowth suddenly burst into flame. Sarah skidded to a halt when she could feel the heat singing her eyebrows.

He had to be all right, if he could do that. Clever of him. Those things would stay away from the heat... She could hear the screams of panicked horses from within. The fire curved around, a circle of flame enclosing a safe area inside. Sarah was somehow a little hesitant about running through to safety, seeing as her hair was already singing just standing next to the fire. It was unbelievably hot. Sarah turned, the flames at her back, to regard four of the beasts, spreading out around her in a semicircle like wolves closing in on a wounded deer. Sarah's heart sank into her stomach like a stone.

"Oh, hell no," Sarah said. She turned, threw her hands over her face, and dove through the flames to the other side. She rolled when she landed, desperately smothering out the small bits of her clothing that had ignited on the way through.

She looked up, sweaty and shaking, to see three of those things wrestling with Jareth inside the circle. He tossed one of them into the flames as she got to her feet, but her view was suddenly blocked by the figure of a horse gone half-mad. It was still tied to the tree, and Sarah was abruptly certain there was something magical about the rope, because it should have snapped already. The line did limit the range of the horse's movement, but it also seemed to enrage him beyond all reason.

The horse saw her, and Sarah stepped back at the hate and terror in the great beast's eyes. It aimed a vicious kick at her head that would have cracked it like a ripe melon, but Sarah scrambled away, losing her balance and falling hard on her rear end. The hoof snapped through the air above her head, and Sarah realized that she was pinned, flames behind her, mad horse in front.

"Jareth," she gasped hopelessly, knowing he couldn't possibly help her in time. She rolled desperately to the side as the horse kicked out again, not really at her this time, just out at a world that was terrible and dangerous and currently aflame. She had thrust her head out of its way, but her arm was flung out awkwardly and with almost dreamlike accuracy, the horse's hoof contacted with the flat of her palm at the very farthest extension of it's kick. Sarah's hand snapped back with the force of it and she was flung half into the flames, shrieking and scrambling for safety.

She looked up, expecting to see her death coming at her with sharp hooves and wild eyes. Instead she saw Jareth, proving beyond any doubt that he was much more than human. He was clinging to the rope that tied the horse to the tree, and hauling the horse bodily away from her. The stallion, a king among its fellows, at eighteen hands high and nearly 2,000 lbs, was losing ground against the determined strength of the Goblin King. He leaned back against the rope with all his strength, cords standing out on his neck and his feet slipping a little on the wet ground. Sarah looked with wide eyes at where he had left the crumpled bodies of the three beasts that had attacked him.

It was Jareth's horse that had gone for her, and she heard Jareth speaking to him, hissing through his teeth as he pulled. She felt the ripples of magic riding on the words. The stallion stomped it's hooves, almost like a petulant child, but finally settled, allowing his master to relax and even stroke his neck.

Sarah looked to her gelding, tied on the other side of the tree, dancing slightly on his feet, looking anxious but not completely mad, the power woven through Jareth's soothing words not as affective at a distance.

Sarah looked out beyond the flames and saw pale shapes moving in the reflected glow of the fire, pacing around them but not trying to get closer. Repulsed by the light and the heat.

She sighed and slumped a little, cradling her hand against her chest. It stung where the horse had clipped it. When she looked down she saw with surreal clarity the muddy imprint of the horses hoof pressed neatly onto her palm. She wiggled her fingers, amazed that her hand wasn't broken.

"Lucky," she murmured in disbelief.

"Are you all right?" Jareth said, and she looked up, realizing he'd gotten close without her noticing. He reached for her hand, turning it over, running his fingers over the mark on her palm with a sharp inhalation of breath.

"Can you move it?" Jareth said, with a sharp, angry glance over at his horse, who was standing calmly now and looking rather sheepish.

"I'm fine," she said, flexing her hand and looking him over with a critical eye. His hair was sticking up in clumps and he had a fresh scrape across his face. It went down his forehead, crossing his nose and curving up underneath his right eye. She reached out but did not touch it, frowning.

"What about you?" she asked, concerned, searching for any other injuries. Jareth noticed, and smiled at her, looking amused and rather pleased.

Sarah made a face at him, letting her hand drop. He had to be okay if he could still act smug. Sarah glanced over at his horse, over to where Jareth had just impressively saved her skin. Then she pushed up on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Jareth straightened, looking as though he'd thought the whole thing had been entirely worth it, just for her reaction to him.

"Those things..." Sarah said, turning to look beyond the flames for a glimpse of them. Jareth's hand rested protectively at her back, and she did not move away from him.

"They've gone, but not for long," he said, looking grim.

"The magic you used," Sarah realized with a jolt. Jareth sighed and stepped away from her.

"They'll all have seen it. Every wretched beast on the black road that has made it within twenty miles of us. And they'll be on their way here as fast as they can come." Jareth picked up a saddlebag, and walked over to his horse, Bim by name. Jareth almost never called his horse by name. It was weird. He hadn't even told her their names until she'd threatened to name them herself.

"We have to run," Sarah said, her voice very carefully devoid of anything like surprise. Jareth heard it anyway and looked at her with a wry smile.

"I can't fight all of them, Sarah. If I could we wouldn't be here." He picked up another bag and walked over to her, pushing it into her hands.

"I know that," Sarah said, taking it. "I just didn't expect you to..." she thought better of the end of that sentence, and stopped it leaving her mouth. She busied herself with loading up her horse, who she'd been informed was called Windle. He didn't look like a Windle.

"Didn't expect me to what?" Jareth asked, sounding amused.

Sarah sighed and mounted her horse, murmuring to him how wonderful and marvelous he was for not trying to kill her. Her gelding, having been consistently bribed with treats and flattered with near constant praise over the last few days, turned his head to look at her with one dark eye, offering his cheek for stroking in an almost friendly fashion.

She obliged him, trying to ignore Jareth and his murderous horse as they came up beside her. She finally glanced at him when he made no move to banish the flames surrounding them. He was waiting expectantly.

"I just...didn't expect you to be so reasonable," she explained with a shrug, somewhat embarrassed for underestimating him.

He laughed at her, flashing sharp white teeth in the firelight.

"I'm not a fool, Sarah," he said, and with a gesture the flames vanished. He urged his horse ahead. "Do try to keep up," his voice trailed after him as his horse sped up into a canter.

They rode like all the hounds of hell were after them, which wasn't all that far from the truth. Sarah was grateful for the growing moon. It was bright enough in the open country they were covering to show the Black Road clearly enough for them to stay well away from it. They switched the horses between a canter and a trot for most of the night, until Sarah was sure they'd gone outside the twenty mile radius Jareth had mentioned and was ready to scream at him that they were killing their mounts.

They crested a hill and Sarah finally stopped her horse and moved to dismount. Jareth brought his stallion around, looking back at her with annoyance.

"What are you doing?" Jareth demanded. He looked over his shoulder at where the horizon was just starting to lighten. "It's not dawn yet." They weren't safe yet, she knew that. Those things hated the sun like Jareth hated life without a bedazzler, but they had seen the monsters come out during a cloudy day and they probably wouldn't balk at tracking them right up until actual sunrise.

"I'm not going to let you kill our horses because you couldn't beat those creatures without getting all flashy," Sarah said, shaking her head. She patted the side of her gelding. He was sweaty and puffing for breath.

Jareth looked at her like she'd grown a second head.

"I know my own animals, Sarah, and you'd be dead if I hadn't gotten _flashy_." he said the last with delicate venom, and Sarah pressed her lips together tightly. "They can make it until dawn and then you can pamper them at your leisure," he said shortly.

Sarah settled unhappily back into her saddle, and Jareth nodded once, turning and urging his horse on as if he expected her to follow. He was watching the horizon carefully for any sign of pursuit. Sarah, however, was loathe to push Windle any harder than he already had been pushed, and they ended up at a walk.

Jareth swung around again when he realized she wasn't with him.

"Sarah, we don't have time to be sentimental. Get back on the pace," he demanded, which might have normally been enough to provoke her temper. She thought briefly of Jareth throwing himself rather heroically at his own mount on her behalf. With that in mind, it was somehow much easier to remain calm.

"I'll tell you what," she said, "I'll catch up with you."

Jareth stared at her with his lips parted, his emotions streaking his hair with purple and black. For a moment it looked as if he would do just as she suggested, ride off and let her catch up with him later. Then he flushed angrily and turned his horse, letting Bim start walking at a medium pace beside Windle. She heard him muttering dark things under his breath, and frowned.

"I mean it, I'll catch up-"

"Stop," Jareth snapped. "Idiot girl. I'm not leaving you here unprotected." He gave her a fierce glare and then looked away. Sarah, recognizing that she had won and rather flattered at his continuing determination to protect her from anything more dangerous than a hangnail, remained silent.

"Putting the health of a horse over the safety of an entire kingdom," Jareth muttered. "My kingdom for a horse."

Sarah's jaw dropped and she stared at him hard for a moment, watching closely for signs that it had been a deliberate joke. Jareth continued to mutter balefully, and Sarah had a sudden, dangerously amusing flash of Jareth as Richard the third.

'I am determined to prove a villain!' said a tiny image of Jareth in her head, shaking his little fist.

Sarah pressed her hand to her mouth desperately, hiding her face behind the fall of her hair. The tiny little Jareth in her head looked somewhat hurt by her amusement. He had a scrape on his face, like the real one. Sarah bit her lip and peeked over at the real Jareth, feeling a teeny bit guilty.

"One might think that after the way they treat you, you'd be a little less concerned about their welfare," Jareth added, still on a roll.

Sarah eyed Jareth's mount with no small amount of distaste, rubbing the hand that he'd kicked against her pant leg.

"I think mine is starting to like me," Sarah said defensively, patting at her horse's neck.

Jareth pressed his lips together in a thin line, and breathed out through his nose.

"It is not necessary for them to like us, only to obey us," He looked lovely and grave and serious in the dusky light, an angel on his way to a funeral.

"Bim likes you," Sarah said, tilting her head to watch him closely._ I like you. _She did like him, even if he seemed to have far too much charm for his own good. However, there were some interesting parallels with his views on horses to his views on people. Bim, as if listening, snorted, seeming to agree with her.

Almost unconsciously, Jareth patted him a little, and Sarah smiled quietly to herself.

_Don't try and be so hard..._

"Bim is obedient, and that is all I require of him," Jareth said, not looking at her. Sarah turned in the saddle and made no effort to hide it as she stared at him frankly, thoughtfully.

"So is that how you feel about it? Obedience before affection?" She mused. Jareth suddenly looked as though he did not like the turn their conversation had taken, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. He glanced at her with the vague alarm of a man who suspected he'd blown it with a girl he liked. It was a rather universal look, and it was amusing to see it on Jareth's face.

"He's only an animal," Jareth explained, and Sarah started to suspect she knew why he hadn't bothered to tell her the horses names until she'd pressed. To him they were just things.

"He's your friend," Sarah said without thinking. Jareth's face turned cold, and Sarah winced, wishing she'd bitten her tongue and kept her mouth shut.

"Ah, yes," he said sharply, "Well, you certainly would know, wouldn't you?" He scowled and continued more softly, as if speaking to himself. "Sarah and her multitude of friends."

Sarah did not look at him, but watched the horizon as the first rays of sunlight speared over the hills. The grassland glittered like gold all around them. They could almost be the land of his dreams, except for the color. Sarah was suddenly hungry for the impossibly bright greenness of the grass there. She had continued to see his dreams when she slept. Though usually she was wearing the silver dress now. Sometimes she even let him catch her.

"You're my friend," Sarah said simply. Beside her, Jareth stiffened in the saddle. Sarah halted her horse and dismounted. She would swear Windle looked back at her in relief.

Bim halted a pace or two ahead of them on his own, and turned to look at Jareth uncertainly. Sarah craned her neck and realized he'd dropped the reins.

"Jareth?" she asked, tentatively.

Jareth jumped a little and turned to look at her. He looked just about as happy as she'd ever seen him. He was almost grinning. Sarah smothered a smile, realizing she'd won their little disagreement, and staying quiet about it. Instead she pointed silently at his reins swinging loose, and turned away to look out at the rolling fields around them.

She saw a little river ahead of them, winding through the land like a silver ribbon in the early light. It cut right across their path, and when Sarah turned to look upstream, she saw it cutting through the Black Road as well.

Those things would be watching for them, for Jareth and any hint of magic. They would be expecting them. On this side of the road, anyway.

Sarah turned to look at Jareth as he dismounted, noticing how energetic he seemed even after a night of riding. His mismatched eyes were shining. He just looked so pleased with himself...she should have told him he was her friend several days ago.

"I have an idea," Sarah said.

* * *

_Author's note: Tiny Jareth is indeed quoting from Shakespeare's Richard III. To anyone who cares, tiny Jareth was shirtless at the time of said recitation.  
_

_Helena Darjeeling- To the horse, Sarah smells like weirdness, due to the many weird places she's been to, and terror, due to the many horses that have objected to her smelling like weirdness in the past._


	10. Chapter 10

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 5- Just after sunrise

Ch 10

Jareth was extremely prickly about the idea until she promised to allow him to go first. Pick your battles, she reminded herself, stepping into the icy stream after him. Her boots really were quite wonderful and though the cold made her wince, her feet seemed to be staying fairly dry. She urged Windle into the stream after her. He followed, but did not look especially enthusiastic about the water. Sarah couldn't blame him. There was something a little off about it, when examined up close. A slight murkiness that seemed to trail out from the Black Road, tainting the water just slightly. Sarah would not like to have to drink it.

They hadn't been able to get the horses to eat the Bemony, but Sarah had bruised the leaves and spread the juices around both horses' nostrils, which she hoped would be enough to get them through.

Jareth started to lead Bim along the path of the little river, walking him upstream and making sure to keep him in the deepest part of the water, well away from the banks. The deepest part of the water was only about shin level on Sarah, but she still took care to watch for dips and rocks Windle might stumble over.

Ahead of her, just as the land started to change and darken with the taint of the Road, she saw Bim hesitate and pull at his lead, dancing a little in place, nervously. Jareth splashed through the water with a scowl on his face, tugging on the line and scolding him.

"Jareth," Sarah urged. "No magic!" Jareth looked at her irritably, as if to say he knew that very well thank you. Bim planted his feet in the center of the stream and refused to move any further. This was, considering where they were headed, a very sensible attitude for a horse to take. Jareth started rummaging through his saddlebags, shaking his head crossly, and brought out a riding crop with a silver handle.

"Jareth!" Sarah said, appalled. Jareth turned to look back at her, at the disappointment and disapproval on her face and lowered the crop with a sigh.

"What do you suggest?" he asked, sounding suddenly weary.

Sarah started patting and soothing Windle with exaggerated care. Windle, approving of this arrangement, started following her around Jareth's horse. She stopped him before they got ahead of Bim. She had said he could go first.

"He's your friend, Jareth," Sarah reminded him. Jareth looked at her doubtfully, and then patted at the side of Bim's neck with hesitant affection. Horses were intensely bribable animals, and at a sign of favor from his usually stern master, Bim perked up enormously. He nudged Jareth in the manner of adoring horses everywhere, and when Jareth moved to lead him forward again, Bim consented to follow. She watched Jareth as he moved ahead of her. He had a watchable backside.

The land on either side of the riverbed looked scorched, the grass blackened and withered down to bare earth. Even the sky looked darker. She could not see any creatures, not birds or squirrels or anything. The area was dead silent except for the burbling of the water running through it. As they walked the flavor of the leaves she was chewing grew more intense, as if reacting to the presence of evil. Her breath fogged slightly in the air. It hadn't been cold enough for that a moment ago. The Road was wider than it had looked, which made the fluttery feeling she got in her stomach whenever she thought about the ending of their little adventure much worse.

Worse, Sarah thought with a wince, and wished once more that Marcus was with them. Perhaps she should try again to convince Jareth to let her contact him. If nothing else he could give them some good advice.

She heard something, then, a strange kind of rustling sound that seemed to be coming from all around her. She jumped a little, turning, trying to identify where it was coming from. Jareth noticed it as well, and looked back with a frown. Sarah met his eyes and shrugged.

Looking over at him, she saw it. A curl of green poking out of Bim's saddlebag. As she watched, it extended a tendril out over the stirrups and unfurled several leaves. The Bemony, reacting to the taint in the air. She looked back at Windle, and saw a similar burst of green shooting tendrils out of her saddlebag. She shared a glance with Jareth, and from the look on his face, for once they were in perfect agreement. Helpful or not, the Bemony was rather creepy to have around.

They exited out the other side of the Black Road with a great deal of relief from everyone, even the horses. Jareth paused after leading Bim up the riverbank, to give the equine a pat or two. Sarah brushed his arm as she led Windle past him, giving him a brilliant smile. She looked back while she was praising Windle, and saw Jareth looking at her.

"Good job, Bim," he said, rather conspiratorially, and Sarah was suddenly a bit suspicious. She wondered if he hadn't exaggerated things a little just to get a bit of attention out of her.

Sarah smiled at him in good-natured mistrust, and Jareth gave her a wicked grin.

They walked the horses upstream for nearly twenty minutes, partly to get up over the rise of a hill and out of sight of the road, and partly just to let the horses cool down. As they walked Sarah noticed that her arm was itching where she'd shoved it in the monster's mouth to keep it from tearing out her throat. At the time she hadn't even noticed the bite, but now it was starting to annoy her. She glanced over at Jareth and thought that the scrape on his face looked rather red and irritated. It was good they were stopping. They hadn't had five minutes to clean themselves up, and wounds from those creatures always seemed to want to fester.

They halted under a tree close to the water, and Sarah sank down into the long golden grass with a sigh of relief. Jareth peeled himself out of his breastplate, and Sarah squirmed out of her leather jerkin. She got up on her knees once to help him with a buckle, and he crouched down once to help her with a stubbornly knotted lacing. Then he handed her an apple and sat down beside her, biting into a piece of fruit of his own. She poked around in the saddlebag and found some good solid road bread, loaded with nuts and raisins, and tore off a hunk, handing the rest to Jareth wordlessly. She pulled the silver bowl out of her pack and crawled forward to dip it into the water.

Theoretically, it would have purified even the water downstream of the Black Road, but Sarah was grateful they didn't have to test it. She took a gulp, careful not to backwash, and handed the bowl off to Jareth.

It was a kind of comfortable dance of domesticity they'd developed over the last few days, and Sarah found that she appreciated it a great deal. Jareth didn't care to see her physically uncomfortable, and everything he did, every decision that he made, even the small ones, seemed to keep that in mind. Sarah felt similarly, and so their camp was surprisingly harmonious. Sarah never needed to ask him to grab her food if he was getting some for himself, he always remembered. If she needed to run off and use the bathroom, she didn't need to ask him to tie up her horse, he just did it for her, and vice versa.

It had been a wonderful surprise. She could not count how many people she had traveled with that she had thought to be perfectly kind and considerate individuals before starting out, only to find out too late that they had contemptible road manners.

Windle, smelling something tasty, snuck up behind her and nibbled at her shoulder. Sarah laughed, pushing at his head, and broke off a piece of her apple to give to him.

"You're teaching him terrible habits," Jareth scolded lightly. "I'll have to have him re-trained when I get him home."

Sarah's smile faltered a little. It was the first time either of them had mentioned anything that would happen after they found and closed the gates between worlds.

_Suicide mission_, a noxious little voice hissed in the back of Sarah's mind. She shook her head and smiled firmly, pushing the voice away.

"Don't you dare," Sarah said with mock indignation. "I've just got him to finally start to trust me." She scratched at her itching arm, irritated, and Jareth reached out, raising his eyebrows as if asking permission. Shoving the apple in her mouth, Sarah casually offered her elbow for inspection. The monster's teeth had shredded her sleeve a bit, and Jareth unbuttoned her cuff and rolled the material up to see better.

He hissed in a breath appreciatively.

"What happened?" he demanded, turning her arm to better see it in the light. Sarah shrugged.

"I got bit," she said simply. Jareth's raised his eyebrows at her and gave her a very dry look.

"Yes I see that," he said as if she was a simpleton. "It needs cleaning."

"So does yours," Sarah said, with jerk of her chin at the angry looking scrape on his face. He touched it, wincing slightly.

"Yes..."

Sarah took the silver bowl from him and filled it again. Then she grabbed a handful of Bemony leaves from Windle's saddlebag, trying not to think about how much more of it they had after crossing the Black Road.

Well, at least they wouldn't run out.

Sarah mashed the leaves up as well as she could, and dropped them in the water, washing the juices off her hands into the bowl. It would be better if they could heat the water up, but they couldn't risk a fire so close to the Road.

"All right, you first," Sarah ordered simply. Jareth lifted his eyebrows, looking amused by her audacity. "It's my bowl," Sarah threatened good-naturedly. Something she couldn't quite identify flickered in his eyes for a moment, and then he nodded and offered his face for inspection, allowing her.

Allowing her. His Majesty was just so gracious, wasn't he...

The process wasn't entirely painless, and so by the time she was done she'd been mollified quite a bit. If she had noticed the slight tingling in her fingers when she touched him, she'd dismissed it as something to do with the Bemony, or her imagination. If Jareth felt anything he kept silent about it to her.

Though, when he did offer to help her in the same way she'd helped him, his eyes were rather bright, and he did look awfully pleased with himself...

She was glad, at the time that he'd offered. The bite on her arm was in an awkward place. She couldn't have seen what she was doing.

He prodded at a particularly tender area, and she winced. Jareth noticed immediately and eased up, shaking his head a little.

"How did this happen? It looks like something tried to _eat_ you."

Sarah smothered a smile.

"Well, yes, it tried." she said casually. She was going to stop there, but Jareth's face had turned stormy and she explained quickly. "It's all right, I've got magic fingers now," she put her apple core in her lap and wiggled the fingers of her free hand. They glittered fancifully in the sunlight, saturated with dreamstuff. "They had a pretty violent reaction to it when I touched them."

Jareth looked at her with grim eyes.

"You were lucky," he said quietly, and Sarah suddenly recalled the sound of him calling for her in the darkness, how panicked and desperate his voice had been.

"Yes, well," she shrugged. "Happens." Jareth shook his head slowly, looking at her with something like exasperation in his eyes. He finished up with her arm, wiping his hands on his pants when he was through. He set the bowl aside, taking her arm and turning it delicately for one last look at his handiwork.

Sarah was struck by a thought, and tilted her head at him.

"What did you do with the rest of it? The golden sand?" she asked curiously. _Your dreams..._ "It certainly is useful stuff."

Jareth gave her a slightly pained look.

"My dreams are back where they belong," Jareth said, "here." He raised her arm and put her hand lightly over his heart. Her fingers touched the bare skin of his chest where his shirt gaped open.

At the time, she did not think he expected the reaction any more than she did.

Her hand exploded in warmth, the sensation rolling up her arm and tugging at her heart, hard. Jareth's eyes went wide and dilated swiftly, turning huge and black. Her free hand started to tingle sharply, unpleasantly, and with a sudden hunch Sarah lifted it and placed it alongside her other hand. They rested side by side on his chest just above his pendant.

It was like a circuit completed, and they both groaned. Sara felt it as a kind of electric warmth that spread right through her from head to toe. She felt the pulse of it as it flowed though her, from one hand to the other. His dreams knew where their home was...

Jareth bowed his head and rested his forehead lightly against hers. It made the sensation better somehow, brighter, and easier for her heart to bear. Jareth was nuzzling her lightly, and it occurred to Sarah that she should probably remove her hands from him. It was a more difficult thing to do than to think about doing. Her fingers felt sort of tangled up in him, in something invisible but delicate and precious...his dreams...The motions she would have to go through to withdraw seemed suddenly impossibly complex. She could feel his heart, pounding under her fingers. It almost felt like she was holding it in her hands.

"Good...god..." Sarah gasped, and Jareth leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers.

It was much better than their first kiss, by several orders of magnitude. Sarah's nerves came alight like a brush fire, and she inhaled sharply though her nose. He moved his lips against her as if he was trying to take something from her, deep, open mouth kisses that burned where he touched her. Like he was branding her as his. Her body's reaction was devastating. It felt as if some great winged thing was trying to take flight inside her chest.

It was the magic in her hands, and in his dreams, Sarah thought desperately. Just magic. It had to be.

Then he pulled back, and gently removed her hands from his chest with a crooked, enigmatic little smile. Sarah gaped at him for a moment, her mind stumbling to catch up.

Jareth looked insufferably pleased with himself.

He was getting back at her, she thought incredulously, for pushing him away the first time. She couldn't believe this.

"You," she said venomously, her green eyes flashing, "You..._tease_!"

Jareth threw his head back and laughed fit to shame the devil. Sarah tossed her silver bowl at his head, splashing water everywhere. He caught it out of the air easily, which only infuriated her further.

"Hmm. The lady is displeased, I see," he said casually, getting to his feet. As if he'd planned the whole thing, that rotten...

"Perhaps a strategic retreat is in order." He gave Bim the rest of his apple as he passed by, and the stallion tried to follow his master rather hopefully until he reached the end of his line. Jareth strolled away through the grass, looking golden and inhumanly lovely in the early sunlight.

Retreat! She didn't want him to retreat, she wanted...Sarah put her hands up quickly, as if trying to fend that thought off. No. No, she didn't want that.

Sarah hesitated.

Well, alright, she did want that. In fact her hormones were informing her rather stridently exactly how much she wanted that. They were, in fact, offering her up a little picture of Jareth doing something much more interesting that reciting Richard the third...

Sarah stared off into space for a moment, enjoying the view, but then shook her head, getting a hold of herself. It would get too complicated. It always got complicated when she tried to be more than friends with a man.

They always asked her to stay.

Sarah sighed, firm in her own resolve again, but strangely disappointed nonetheless. Glancing back at the real Jareth's retreating form with a silent promise of retribution, she decided to take advantage of the moment of solitude.

She dug around in her pack and pulled out her mirror.

"Sir Didymus," she sighed, "I need you."

"My Lady?" he answered her almost instantly, and she smiled at his earnest face.

"How goes the watch, noble sir?" She asked pleasantly.

"Sir Ludo, Hoggle, and I have been guarding in shifts, my Lady. On my honor, none have approached yon portal," Didymus said proudly.

"And you've been very careful not to go too near, and not to look at it?" Sarah asked gently.

"My Lady, I can take those dark beasts on single-handedly, I can-"

"Yes, I know," Sarah interrupted with a smile. "But I need you there, good sir, or all hope is lost." She said it with sober intensity, and Sir Didymus straightened proudly.

"It has been an easy duty, as the goblins have left their city nearly empty since yesterday morning," Didymus said pleasantly.

"What?" Sarah asked, startled. "Where have they gone?"

"They marched out all together, sweet Lady, as if they were ordered to some great battle," his voice sounded rather wistful, as though he would have liked nothing better than to join them.

"I wonder where they went," Sarah murmured softly.

"Where I sent them," said the Goblin King, from behind her. She jumped, whirling, and there he was, leaning casually against the tree at her back. His eyes were glittering in a fashion that contradicted his easy pose. Jareth looked furious.

* * *

_Author's note: Tiny Jareth knows people want to know what he was doing, unsupervised in Sarah's head. He doesn't kiss (or grope) and tell._

_Kore-of-Myth- Sarah's feelings for the horse are strictly platonic.  
_

_AmericanWoman- If he wasn't going to eat him some beef jerky before, he certainly will now- that made me laugh for five minutes._

_jjellybean00- Impossible. Shirtless Tiny Jareth(TM) is owned by David Bowie. _

_violetmadame- long enough to be a real pain._


	11. Chapter 11

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 5- Turbulence

CH 11

"Jareth," Sarah said, surprised. Jareth moved swiftly and snatched the mirror out of her hand.

"Hey!" She scrambled to her feet.

"My Lady, are you all right?" Sir Didymus' voice was suddenly small and tinny in quality.

"You deliberately defied me," Jareth growled at her, and snapped the compact shut on Didymus' concerned face.

"Give that back to me." Sarah gave him a look that would have melted glass, her hand out, demanding. To her surprise, he moved forward, as if to give it to her. It was a trick, of course, and when she reached out for it, he snatched at her wrist and held her close.

"I believe I made my decision about the portal in the Labyrinth quite clear to you. I decided against surveillance, and yet you-"

"Well it was a stupid decision," Sarah said crisply, yanking at the arm he held. He stiffened, his hair streaking black in fury.

"I am the sovereign of this land," he snapped at her, "and I will be obeyed."

"You asked me to come here to help. You never said anything about abiding foolish decisions. Certainly not when the _sovereign_ of this land is willing to put my friends safety at risk out of sheer stubbornness." She did not mention the fact that his stubbornness in this case seemed to be motivated entirely by jealousy. She was tempted to but it seemed...unnecessarily cruel.

"You will not defy me," he said, his eyes flashing. Sarah stepped back, letting her trapped arm stretch between them, shaking her head. If there was a label she could put to what she was feeling right then, Sarah would have called it disappointment.

You ruined it, she thought irrationally. You just had to ruin it...

"I'll defy you any time I have to," Sarah said quietly.

"Then you can take your help and go," Jareth snapped at her, his expression toxic. He pushed the compact into her hand and released her.

Sarah pressed her lips together, feeling a sudden sharp swell of pity for the man.

"Alright," She said with a shrug, and snatched up her pack. She moved with a casual ease that she couldn't quite force herself to feel. Sarah walked over to Windle, patting him gently and reaching out to untie him.

"That horse is mine," Jareth said sharply. Sarah looked back, and stared at him for a moment, stung. They were miles from anywhere.

Unbelievable.

She pulled the pendant off her neck and held it out.

"Fine then," she said, sounding disgusted to her own ears. "Keep what's yours." She dropped it on the ground as if it was just trash. Jareth stiffened. Then she turned on her heel and walked away from him. She strolled though the golden fields, free as a bird...She wondered if watching her walk away from him in his dreams made it any easier to do it in real life.

Sarah could feel it, the old magic, circling them, and it wasn't looking for her. He'd tried to break their bargain, and Sarah had more than one reason to want to get away from him. There were rules, and terrible consequences for breaking them. That poor fool...

She would still have to try to get to the beginning of the Black Road, though he would definitely reach the gate first if he had both the horses. Sarah thought rather mournfully about her jerky stick. At least she wouldn't starve. She probably walked for ten minutes, going through options in her head, riffling through them like a stack of playing cards. She was trying to keep her mind off how damned disappointed she was.

Sarah had a fair idea of where she stood in Jareth's heart, so she wasn't entirely surprised when she heard a whinny behind her. She looked back to see him riding toward her. He'd left Windle at the tree, and the horse in question didn't take kindly to being left behind alone. Sarah stopped walking and watched him approach with pale, sober eyes.

He halted in front of her, not so close as to be rude. He looked...very quiet.

"You would do it," he said softly, as though she'd surprised him. "You would leave, as though it meant nothing." He looked very sad all of a sudden. "You would leave, and feel nothing."

Sarah wondered what it would be like to have a conversation with Jareth that only meant one thing. No hidden meanings, just what was said.

"Yes, I would," she replied, looking up at him. She would leave him. No matter what was said here, eventually, when the work was done, she would have to leave him. "I mean no," she said then, with a sudden pang. "I mean..." she hesitated, glancing up at him under her eyelashes. "It wouldn't mean nothing. I wouldn't feel nothing."

There, she thought, that was the best she could do.

Jareth held his hand out to her. Her silver pendant winked at her in the sunlight, dangling from his fingers.

"Please," he said, offering it to her. Sarah glanced down at it, then back up at him, smiling slightly.

"If you wanted me to obey you, you should have made it part of our bargain," Sarah said conspiratorially. She took the pendant from his hand, pulled it over her head.

Jareth almost smiled at her. He looked very human all of a sudden. Sort of...fragile.

"If I had, you never would have agreed to come," he sighed, looking away.

"No, I wouldn't have," Sarah agreed. Jareth leaned over in the saddle, offering her an arm up. Sarah gave him a questioning look and he nodded, encouraging.

With a little crooked smile, Sarah let Jareth help her up onto Bim's back behind him. She slid her hands up around his waist and he sighed, relaxing a little. As if he hadn't believed she would return with him until she was actually holding on to him. They rode back to their little makeshift camp in silence. Windle looked enormously relieved.

She slid off Bim's back first, and looked up at Jareth with serious eyes that were a lot more remote than they had been fifteen minutes previously.

"You should let me talk to my friend Marcus," Sarah said simply. "He may be able to help us guard the portal."

Jareth saw the distance in her eyes, and winced a little. Sarah felt a little flicker of anger light her chest at the sight. _You ruined it..._He slid off the horse's back and tied Bim up again, almost as if he was stalling for time. Sarah waited.

"Let me see your mirror," he said finally, holding out his hand. The tone of his voice made it a request, and Sarah handed it over to him, surprised. Even after all that, she hadn't really expected him to change his mind about anything.

He turned from her and rustled around in his saddlebags for a moment. She heard a faint clinking sound as he did. He stepped back, bringing out a crystal. She opened her mouth to protest, but stilled herself. He knew he couldn't use magic openly. He'd made that crystal ahead of time, packed it like cargo. Jareth had to have something special in mind.

She was surprised when he pushed his hand inside it to the elbow. The crystal gave nothing away, no reflection inside it that would have seemed unusual, but Jareth used it like it was a hole into somewhere else. Sarah found herself drawing close in sheer fascination.

Jareth took a deep breath and lowered his head. He made no sound but Sarah got the distinct impression some great effort was being made.

When he pulled her compact out of the crystal, it seemed to glow for a moment, silvery-white. Jareth looked down at it in his hand as if it was something of serious consequence.

He looked tired, Sarah realized with a little jolt. Bone weary, and he had not been only a moment before.

"Here," Jareth said, his voice rough. "Speak to anyone you like."

Sarah lifted her eyebrow as she took it.

"Anyone?" She asked. Jareth looked at her flatly.

"Anyone. Anywhere." _Anything_, his eyes seemed to say, and Sarah's jaw dropped a little. She looked down at her little mirror with wide eyes. The glow had faded, and it looked the same as it always had. But if...if he'd done what she thought he'd done...

Anyone. Toby. Her father.

She was holding a thing of immense power in her hands.

"Jareth..." she said thickly, her eyes pricking with sudden unshed tears. _Oh, Toby..._ Jareth stepped close to her, and touched a lock of her hair, letting it slide through his fingers.

"It's safe," he said faintly, "It's a magical object, like your bowl or your necklace." He smiled thinly. "Not flashy enough to be noticed."

He couldn't do magic where they were without drawing unwanted attention. So he'd made a crystal that was a hole into a place that was far enough away to not draw the attention they needed to avoid. It was more than clever, it was brilliant.

He shut his eyes then, and Sarah put a hand out on his arm, suddenly concerned he might topple over.

"I need to sleep," he told her. "Will you wake me in a few hours?"

"Yes," Sarah said. She hadn't thanked him yet. "Jareth, I-"

He touched her mouth with his fingers, lightly. Her eyes went wide. He smiled a tight little smile, and turned to pull his cloak out of Bim's saddlebag. She watched him settle himself down under the tree, watched him wrap himself up in it. He looked chilled and very weary.

Sarah chewed her lip for a moment, and then turned to Windle and pulled her thick fur cloak out. Silently, she draped it over him. His eyes flicked open at the sensation, and their eyes met for an instant.

Sarah had a sudden, startling urge to kiss him, and dropped her eyes. Jareth smiled faintly, and pulled the cloak up tighter around him.

She went around to the other side of the tree, her new treasure cupped in her slightly shaking hands. Anyone, anywhere.

Anything, Jareth's eyes had sworn. Anything, if only she would...Sarah wiped at her face and took a deep breath. She opened the compact.

"Marcus?" She asked hesitantly, not knowing what to expect. The mirror warmed in her hand, almost seeming to hum a little, just the slightest vibration.

Then Marcus was looking at her out of the compact, looking rather surprised and just slightly tipsy. There were twinkling lights and the fluttering fabric of a tent behind him, and Sarah realized with a little jolt that Marcus was still at the celebration she had left days ago. For him, almost no time at all had passed.

"Sarah?" he ventured. "How extraordinary, what new contraption is this?" He looked around vaguely, as if trying to see what she was using to contact him. "I haven't seen you all evening, where have you been hiding yourself?"

Sarah felt a smile flicker to her lips.

"In time and space, Marcus," she said lightly. It was a kind of shorthand way of telling him she'd traveled a long way to a place where time was moving much differently.

Marcus' eyes widened a little, and he leaned toward her in the frame.

"Ah, I see." He said, and winked. "Was it that tall fellow with the fire in his eyes? He was asking for you by name, did you know that?"

Sarah frowned, thinking.

"No," she said, honestly startled. "You mean Marib?"

Marcus snapped his fingers.

"That's the one. Did he take you off on his flying carpet?" Marcus looked vastly amused, but Sarah frankly didn't know what he was talking about. She was afraid he might be a little drunker than she'd originally thought.

"What? No." she shook her head. "I'm not with Marib. I met..." she glanced back at where Jareth was sleeping, "...an old friend. He's in trouble, and I promised to help him."

Marcus lifted his eyebrows.

"You promised?" he sounded surprised.

"Yes," Sarah said stoutly. "And it turned out to be...worse than I'd thought. So I hoped you might be able to help."

Marcus rubbed at the bottom half of his face, smoothing his white mustache over his lips. He knew as well as she did how powerful promises could be.

"Must be some friend," he said cautiously.

Sarah thought of Ludo, and Hoggle. Then she thought of the quiet, intense look of devotion Jareth got in his eye when he looked at her sometimes.

"Yes," Sarah, said softly, and perhaps more of her heart was in her words that she'd thought, because Marcus went very warm and paternal on her.

"There, now, don't fret. Tell me about it, and we'll find a way to put it right," he said gently.

So, more or less without interruption, Sarah did just that.

Marcus went pale when she mentioned the Black Road. By the time she'd brought him pretty much up to date he'd had to go and find a chair to sit down in. She waited for him, while he stroked his mustache, looking grave.

"Sarah, is this just a speaking device, or can you come through?" Marcus asked her. Sarah narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why?" she asked, suspiciously. Marcus slapped his hand flat on his knee.

"Because I want you to come back here at once," he said. "We'll go to Tahiti, you and I. There are beaches there, Sarah, that you wouldn't believe-"

"Absolutely not," Sarah said sharply, with a pang. "I made a bargain, Marcus, you know as well as I do-"

"If it was a bargain, it was dishonestly made." Marcus snapped at her. "It's a poor friend who leads his companions into certain death."

"Nothing's certain," Sarah said, weakly, and clenched her hands. "And it wasn't a dishonest bargain, he just didn't realize..." her voice failed her for a moment, and she shook her head. "He didn't realize what he'd asked."

Marcus looked at her face closely, then shook his head and sighed.

"Oh, Sarah," he said, and almost sounded sorry for her. "You've never mentioned this man before, and I've heard a lot of stories from your mouth, child."

Sarah looked away, and smiled slightly. She'd always been very careful around mirrors whenever Marcus had been around.

"It was the first story," she said absently, and then took a breath and looked at him. "It's my story. I've never told it to anyone, I just..." she tilted her head and shrugged, oddly shy in the face of Marcus' sharp eyes. "I wanted it for myself. One story, just for me." She flashed him a smile. "Silly."

Marcus looked at her impassively.

"Oh, yes," he said, something very old and knowing in his voice. "Very silly."

"Can you help?" Sarah asked, tentatively. Marcus gave her cold look that had every long year of his life behind it, and Sarah flinched.

"I'll not be tricked into sacrificing the last piece of my homeland to save a crooked little world somewhere far outside my concern." He frowned darkly. "Not even for you, Sarah."

Sarah stiffened. The last time they had done this, Sarah had managed to shut the gates between worlds, at the last second under dire circumstances, with a seed.

A seed beyond price. A seed she'd once kept in an engraved box that now lay empty in her pack. Now lost, on a far away world, given up to save a friend. To save Marcus.

He carried the only other seed of its kind left in creation. The last remnant of his home, long since lost. Even when facing death, he had not given it up. Sarah had given hers instead, and Marcus had never forgiven her for it.

"I'm not asking you for that," she said very carefully, very clearly. He nodded once, sharply.

"Good. Talk to me again when you've come to your senses," he said brusquely. Sarah stiffened.

"Marcus," she said, startled. Marcus shook his head, looking at her sadly.

"Sometimes folk need to make their own mistakes," he said with a sigh, and waved his hand in front of his face. The connection between them went dark with the abruptness of a hung-up phone line. Sarah stared at the mirror as if she'd just been slapped.

Damn it. Seemed to be her day for disappointments...

She put her hand to her mouth, and looked out at the swaying golden countryside for a long time. Maybe as much as an hour or more. Then she looked down at her mirror and stroked it, almost lovingly. She opened it again.

"Toby?" she said softly.

She made a soft noise in the back of her throat at the sight of him. It was dark where he was. He was asleep, his bedsheets tangled at his feet and his mouth open in a near silent snore. He'd grown so much since she'd seen him last...he was all limbs, now, coltish and gangly. She'd never seen anything more beautiful in her whole life.

Now she could see him when she liked, talk to him...Sarah shut the mirror and hugged it to her chest, grinning idiotically. She hadn't asked for this. All Sarah had asked for was safe passage, and she'd got it in the form of her silver pendant. She wouldn't have to worry any more about the worlds she visited changing her without her consent. About becoming less (or more) than human. She was safe. Jareth had given her that, for her help.

The mirror was something else entirely. It was amazingly extravagant, a pearl of great price, and all he asked of her...

He asked nothing of her. Just that silent look of devotion in his eyes.

Sarah stood up, and walked over to where he lay, sleeping. She watched him for a moment, feeling very strange and sad. It hurt to be disappointed by a friend, but when she took the day in hand and compared Marcus and Jareth, she had to admit that all things considered, Jareth came out looking much better in her eyes.

She sat down beside him, and pulled her furred cloak a bit so that it covered her as well. Jareth stirred and lifted his head to look up at her in surprise, his hair sticking up at improbable angles. She gave him a very bland look, tucking her leather jerkin up into a pillow for her head, and lying down beside him.

"Sarah?" he asked softly, turning to face her. He looked rather sleepy and bizarrely cute. Sarah tugged the fur cloak a little higher up underneath her neck, and curled up on her side, facing him.

"Thank you," she sighed. "Thank you so much."

Jareth hesitated, something huge and bright shining out from his face.

Please, his eyes seemed to say. Oh, please...

He reached for her, moving slowly enough for her to get out of the way if she objected. She did not, and so very shortly she found herself wrapped up in strong arms, her head tucked comfortably underneath his chin. Sarah slid her arm up around his shoulder, spreading her fingers against the softness of his shirt at his back. Jareth sagged a little against the ground at her response.

"Ahh..." he said, and it seemed rather like the sound had been squeezed out of his whole body. Wrung out like a dish towel. Feeling pleasantly safe, and warm for more than one reason, Sarah slept.

* * *

_Author's Note- Continued thanks to Kore-of -Myth, who is an awesome beta. Also, beware the next chapter, which will have, as Lixxle terms it, some adult-type touching.  
_

_hazlgrnLizzy and AmericanWoman- Jareth seems to be keeping his plans close to the vest. Perhaps we'll find out later..._

_Kore-of-Myth- Sarah does seem to be a bit flighty, doesn't she? _

_Ginabella- Sarah met Marcus six months ago, and has been traveling with him ever since. She's picked up quite a lot of unusual things in her travels, like the bug. Her mirror was just a regular mirror (until this chapter). Sarah got it at a shop in San Fransisco for four dollars. A hippie that was browsing in the shop snatched her purse and ran off with it. Sarah never did get it back. However, to this day that hippie has terrible nightmares of running endlessly through a maze of corridors and pathways that never end. Jareth even occasionally sends the cleaners out to chase him.  
_


	12. Chapter 12

_NOTE-This chapter begins near midnight on the the **SIXTH** day._

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 6-Tempting Fate

CH-12

Sarah dreamed of green fields. Sarah had been dreaming of green fields a lot lately. She didn't mind, it was absurdly peaceful. She always awoke with the feeling that she'd been on a vacation, but she did wonder how long the affect would last. It seemed as though the intensity of the dream was waning a little, as if bit by bit she was fading from that place.

She enjoyed it while she could. Sarah sat on a hillside and leaned back on her hands, tilting her neck back so the kinder, gentler Jareth that lived in that dream could apply his mouth to her throat. It was harmless, she told herself. It was harmless, just like an idle fantasy. She sighed softly at the brush of his lips. He was human here, and so he did not smell quite right.

He was not so mercurial, not as sharp, not as prickly. Not as attractive, Sarah admitted to herself. He was not quite Jareth here, so to her growing dismay, she was realizing he was not quite right. Tonight, however, there seemed to be a little more...Jareth about him. A sharp intelligence in his eye that pleased her. She didn't normally let him get so close.

There was a thickening in the air, a dimming of the light. Sarah realized she was waking with an almost guilty relief.

"Wait," said the Jareth in her dreams.

She came awake all at once, under a warm fur cloak, the small fire Jareth had built still cracking faintly, casting an orange glow on the grasses around them. She turned her head to look at him, curled up against her. He was restless in his sleep, frowning, and reaching for something.

"Wait," sighed the real Jareth, and Sarah jerked in surprise.

No. No, that was...not possible.

"Damn..." sighed Jareth, in his sleep, and curled in on himself unhappily. He'd lost his Sarah.

Sarah sat up carefully and resisted the impulse to pound at her own head. Stupid, oh, she was a prime idiot. She pressed her hand to her forehead and scowled when she saw the golden glitter of her hand in the firelight. She hadn't done anything much more than a bit of kissing with the Jareth she'd seen in her dreams. Something about him had disturbed her, besides the horrible manacles he had on his wrists. He was human, and very...safe.

She had, however, gone a good bit further with the imaginary Jareth than she ever had with the real one. The imaginary Jareth had little doubt that she was tempted by him. The question was, how much of it had the real Jareth been present for? She looked down at him laying beside her. Had it just been the last two times they'd stopped to sleep, given the proximity between them? She thought on what had happened when she'd touched him over his heart. Proximity seemed to be a factor.

Just then, she caught a flash of something, of movement in the dark and sat up very straight, her eyes raking over what she could see of the landscape. It might have been a trick of the light...for an instant she could have sworn she'd seen pale eyes reflected in the flickering light from the fire. She looked over at the horses, who did not seem to be overly concerned. Surely they would react if there was something out there.

Sarah looked back at Jareth, deceptively peaceful-looking in sleep. He did not, however, look innocent in the slightest. Even in sleep he had a bit of the scoundrel about him. A smile flickered briefly to her lips, but faded quickly. Sarah sighed, somehow intimidated by what she was considering doing. If she was right...well, if she was right, any small reason she'd had for keeping herself back from him was gone. She hadn't wanted to get too close to him, and then leave him brokenhearted. If he had been present for her dreams...she'd pretty much already gone way beyond teasing into downright torture.

"Jareth," she said finally, taking her decision in both hands. She touched his arm, shaking him a little.

Jareth made a petulant sound that was dangerously endearing. Sarah smiled faintly, and lay down underneath the warm cover of her cloak. She squirmed up against him, pressing close, enjoying the warmth. It had gotten colder over the last day. Even though they'd moved a good distance away from the Road, it seemed like it was having a greater affect on the land around it the closer they got to the source.

Jareth opened his eyes wide and looked down at her. Jareth had been a near gentleman the last day and a half, not pushing her, not touching her more than she touched him, even when she curled up and slept beside him. She would almost think she had cowed him a bit with her willingness to leave him after their argument. The real Jareth was no longer so certain of his irresistibility to her.

"Sarah?" he questioned cautiously. She held up her hand, glittering in the faint orange light. Jareth lifted an eyebrow, looking disheveled. He made a show of examining her hand.

"It appears to still be attached, so I'm not sure what you're on about," Jareth said mildly, then tilted his head as if admiring it. "Though, I grant you, it's quite beautiful in this light."

Sarah grinned at him, relaxing a little. She took a deep breath, pleased that he smelled like himself.

"You've been hitchhiking in my dreams," she said easily.

Jareth tilted his head, puzzled. Sarah angled her head back, stretching the long pale length of her neck in front of him. His eyes followed the line of it hungrily, widening slightly as she reached up and tapped the hollow of her throat with her index finger.

"You kissed me here," she said, faint accusation in her voice. Jareth blinked.

"That was you," he said, as if he couldn't quite believe it. Sarah nodded slightly, tilting her head to look up at him. He smiled at her, a cold, hungry little smile and she shivered a bit, unprepared for how glad she was to see it. He moved closer to her, touched her throat lightly.

"That was you," he said softly, pleased. She'd kissed him in the dream they'd shared, and made it very clear that she'd enjoyed it.

"Yes," she said with a half smile.

Jareth dipped his head down and tasted her. That was the only way Sarah could think to describe it. A swift, hard press of his lips to hers that shot sparks right through her. Then he pulled back and looked at her, almost hesitantly.

To see if I like it, she thought dazedly. To see if I like him.

Sarah slid her hand up his chest, feeling the sharp tingle that were his dreams reacting where they had lodged themselves in her fingers. She slipped her hand up underneath the lip of his shirt, hungry for the feel of warm skin. Jareth made a faint, disbelieving sound as Sarah lifted her eyes to look at him.

Sarah wanted this. She did not make an effort to hide it from him. Her body was presenting her with some rather strident demands, rapidly moving to throttle her brain into submission.

Jareth saw that, and his eyes darkened with a sudden fierce joy. She darted in and kissed him gently, an electric brush of skin on skin.

Jareth's reaction was violent and immediate. Sarah was startled by the swiftness of his movements as he enveloped her in his arms, his body moving to cover hers. His mouth pressed against hers with a hungry excitement that left her lightheaded.

Strong hands were caressing her, grasping gently, sliding across her thighs as his body eased between them. She breathed in sharply through her nose as the solid weight of him settled against her. Above her, Jareth growled softly in pleasure. His mouth eased off a little and he began to kiss her more gently, his motions achingly soft. Sarah felt the contact between them arc like raw voltage and she grabbed onto his shoulders, her heart reacting with a pang.

He clutched at her tightly, making soft, urgent sounds against her lips. Sarah drew her hands down his back, her fingers digging into the soft fabric of his shirt. Jareth gasped at the bite of her nails on his skin and pressed her against the ground. She could feel his excitement quite clearly against her inner thigh. Sarah hissed in a breath through her teeth at the sudden, devastating flood of hormones the sensation evoked.

Jareth was shaking. She could feel him, he was shaking all over, and it was obvious to Sarah that he'd wanted this for a very long time. He pushed his face back into the fall of her hair and breathed in deeply, tightening his arms around her. She could feel his heart thudding against her skin. She almost felt pinned down by the strength of the sensation.

He started to kiss her face, trailing his mouth up along the curve of her jaw line. He caught her earlobe in his mouth, nipping her sightly. Brushed his lips over that shivery place just above her temple. As if he was trying to memorize her face with his mouth, trying to press into his mind how every inch of her felt and tasted.

"Sarah," he sighed into her ear, a sweet benediction. Then he bowed his head and bit her throat. Sarah stiffened, the shock of it making the hair on the back of her arms stand at attention. He applied his sharp teeth delicately, and then slowly increased the pressure as Sarah's delight became obvious. She arched up against him, amazed at the vicious ache the bite of his teeth had brought to life inside her. He moaned softly as her response brought her up against the length of him, and he pressed her back against the ground with a sharp movement of his hips. They came together, they came together just right and Sarah gasped at the sudden flush of raw joy that spread out through her body, crackling from her fingertips. Jareth caught his breath at the contact and tilted his head back, his face going slack in relief.

They stared at each other, raw and open in the firelight. They were pressed together so tightly Sarah could feel the blood pulsing in his groin, even through two sets of clothing. Jareth was breathing hard, and Sarah's heart was fluttering in her chest like it was trying to escape. He was beautiful, he was _beautiful_, a wild, fantastic, untamed creature right out of myth. A creature who was, at that moment, seeing nothing in the whole world but her.

He looked triumphant, his mismatched eyes flashing at her. Sarah recognized it, recognized the look, and felt a delicious little shiver of delight.

He kissed her as if he was trying to crawl inside her. Sarah made a faint sound, swallowed by his mouth. She started clawing at his shirt, trying to tear it off him without sacrificing the closeness of their embrace. Jareth pushed against her again with a soft, ecstatic sound and Sarah wrapped herself around him, her legs twining around his waist.

She felt the exact instant he went ice cold against her skin.

Jareth stiffened, choking. The sound was awful, and even if he hadn't abruptly gone so cold against her skin it felt like he was burning her, she would have jerked back from him in alarm.

"Jareth?" She said tentatively, scooting away from him, shivering. He leaned over on his arms heavily. He was freezing, the cold actually radiating off him. Sarah could feel it even without touching him, as if someone had left the freezer door open.

Every ounce of color had fled his face, leaving him white and ill looking in the firelight. He gasped, and Sarah winced at the sound.

"Something's wrong," Jareth managed. Sarah reached up and touched his face, concern clenching at her heart unbearably. He sagged away from her, rolling onto his back, collapsing onto her fur cloak. Sarah glanced over at the fire and crawled over, laid more wood on top. She approached him with her heart in her throat, touched him lightly on his chest.

Sarah felt the dreamstuff in her hands react, and Jareth took a long, deep breath, seeming to warm a little under her fingers. He looked up at her with grim eyes.

"It's the Labyrinth," he said, and Sarah felt her heart drop.

"The portal," Sarah said with a thrill of alarm. She placed her other hand beside the first, stroking his bare chest because it seemed to help. He shut his eyes and sighed, shivering. "Can you tell what's happening?" she asked softly, tense.

He shook his head silently. Sarah glanced over at where she'd left her bag, and caught another glimpse of movement beyond the edge of the light cast from their fire. It was quick, and she might have just been imagining it, but combined with everything else Sarah was suddenly on high alert, her eyes darting about, looking for trouble. She drew her hand over Jareth in a reassuring way.

"I'll be right back," she said with sharp, suspicious eyes. He shuddered a little as she removed her hand, making her feel wretched. Sarah glanced over at the horses as she fetched her bag, and realized they looked nervous.

They were both looking out at the darkness surrounding them, ears pricked up, necks held high. As she watched, Bim snorted and stamped his foot. Sarah looked back at Jareth, sprawled and helpless-looking in the soft orange glow from the fire.

Now would be a perfect time for Something Terrible to try and attack them.

Something Terrible declined, at least for the moment, and Sarah moved back to Jareth's side unmolested. She rested one hand on his chest, accepting the tingling and marking with watchful eyes how he seemed to take comfort in her touch, warming slightly and breathing easier. With her other hand Sarah brought out her mirror and called for Sir Didymus. If something had happened he would know about it.

She got a surprise, though, when she called for him. There was a strange, blurred image, a sensation of motion. Two creatures fighting fiercely in the darkness, and then nothing. Sarah looked down at the blank mirror with panic riding high in her chest. That had never happened before, never.

Jareth covered her hand with his. His eyes were grim, glittering in the warm light. His fingers were unnaturally cold, but Sarah recognized his concern and smiled down at him slightly, appreciative. She scooted closer to him, holding the mirror so he could see.

She tried again, with Hoggle this time.

"Sarah!" His face came into view immediately, blackened with soot. He was out of breath and shook his head, leaning on his knees a little. She could see that he was outside. "Sarah, I'm sorry, it's ruined, it's all burned."

"What?" Sarah demanded, "Hoggle, what's going on?"

Hoggle slumped and shook his head.

"I'll show you," he sighed, and made a gruff 'follow me' gesture that under the circumstances was fairly ridiculous. Jareth let out a puff of breath, shaking his head slightly. Sarah shot him a glance as the view in the mirror followed Hoggle as he walked, an amused curl of her lip breaking through the seriousness of the situation.

Her smile fled when she saw what Hoggle wanted her to look at. Beside her, Jareth cursed expressively, causing Hoggle to flinch slightly in terror. The Bemony covering the black portal had been set alight and burnt to ashes.

There was a body lying in front of it, and Sir Didymus was standing beside it, sword out, looking terribly excited. As Hoggle edged closer they got a better look at the body, and Sarah twitched, agitated. It was the goblin, Blotch. He was lying face up, eyes staring blankly. His face looked rather drawn and grayish, strange for something newly dead, but what upset Sarah the most was his eyes. White eyes. He looked blind.

Blotch had been taken, taken over by the dark things that lived on the black road, and no one had noticed. If he'd been weak willed it would have happened almost instantly, and in that case he could probably pass for several hours, until his eyes started to change. Blotch must have hidden in the city after the goblins left...It was a much more violent process when the person fought. Sarah knew that very well.

She'd nearly been killed by a friend they hadn't realized had been taken, the last time she'd dealt with a situation like this. Sarah, her mind abruptly a million miles away, started to shake a little bit.

Jareth noticed this, weighing it with calculating eyes, and leaned forward toward the mirror.

"Higgle," he said with uncharacteristic sweetness.

"Hoggle," Hoggle corrected, nervously.

"Yes," Jareth replied dismissively, "I believe Sarah charged you, the Knight and the Yak to guard the portal while we were off, didn't she?"

"Er, yeah," Hoggle replied, glancing over at Didymus. Didymus swept his sword in an elaborate pattern in the air, obviously in high spirits after dispatching the goblin.

"So, do you have an explanation for why you failed her?" His tone was very sharp, and the words hit home, causing Hoggle to flinch and Didymus to droop a bit. Hoggle shuffled his foot, nervously.

"I ah, might have fallen asleep, Your Majesty," Hoggle said with a nervous laugh.

"Ah, Hoggle," Jareth said, smiling coldly, and Hoggle perked up at the correct use of his name. "Be sure to bring replacement Bemony back from the Bog of Stench."

Hoggle had time to stiffen in terror before the floor went out from under him. The mirror went blank. It was enough to snap Sarah out of the dark and frightened little place she'd gone to, and she whirled on him furiously.

"Jareth, you didn't!" She snapped. Jareth looked up at her, just seeming tired.

"I certainly did," he said bluntly. Sarah's mouth dropped a little, her features darkening like an oncoming storm. Jareth registered this, and snapped at her wearily. "There are plenty of handholds on the way down, as you very well know, and we need replacement plants for the ones that were destroyed. The walk back will give him time to think about his failure." Jareth passed a hand over his face and sighed. "It would be too much to hope for him to hit his head on the way down, as it could not help but improve his personality."

Sarah shut her mouth unhappily, somewhat mollified. Jareth's attention was suddenly diverted by something the horses were doing, and he pushed himself to a sitting position.

"Sir Didymus," she called, taking advantage of Jareth's distraction. The excitable little Knight responded immediately.

"My Lady, the King is right, we have failed you," he said sorrowfully, removing his hat and bowing his head. Sarah sighed fondly.

"Oh, Didymus, you did your best. You stopped Blotch before he could do any more damage," she reassured him. Didymus straightened up a bit.

"'Tis true, sweet Lady, I have slain him myself," he said stoutly, without remorse.

"As you should have," Jareth said casually, surprising her. "Carry on, Knight," he added with a nod.

"Sire," Didymus said, replacing his hat, and fading from view.

"Well, it could be worse," Sarah sighed, shutting the mirror, and Jareth gave her a baleful look.

"Never say that," he said, nodding his head toward the horses. Sarah looked, and stiffened in alarm.

The horses were unhappy, dancing in place, tugging on their lines. A flicker of firelight brought an image of moving things out in the darkness, dark things with pale eyes. Bim reared a bit, kicking at something that got too close.

Sarah jumped to her feet.

"Are you okay to fight?" she asked him, tense. Jareth took a deep breath, looking resigned.

"It was a shock. I'll be alright," he said, then dug around in their packs and brought out his weapon. Sarah had been surprised the first time she'd seen it. She would have expected him to have a sword. Something with a jeweled hilt and perhaps some glitter.

Jareth fought with a spear, when he did not fight with magic. He kept it strapped neatly to Bim's side when they rode. It was metal-tipped, made of dark wood. The wood was inlaid with strange silver symbols, whirling and skittering down the length of it. It looked wickedly dangerous, and intimidatingly occult. Jareth handled it like it was a part of his soul. He looked fierce and wild and powerful just holding it. When he fought with it he looked like a demi-god on a mission. Hercules slaying the Hydra.

Sarah nodded in satisfaction as he lifted the beautiful weapon, reassured by how dangerous he looked. She stepped away, keeping close to the fire. Jareth had given her a long handled knife with a viciously curved blade, but she had found that her bare hands were still her best weapons against the dark things, despite the fact that the dreamstuff seemed to be fading a bit. Behind her, she heard Jareth building up the fire further, and the light level slowly increased, letting her see what they were facing.

Sarah's heart quailed in her chest. They were surrounded.

* * *

_Author's Note-_

_AmericanWoman- as per your request...smut. (bows)  
_

_Lixxle- I prefer Marvin Gaye's 'Lets get it on'. Any adult-type touching scene is funnier with 'Let's get it on'._

_Solea- why couldn't Sarah just figure a way to free him and take him with her? Because then the story would be about five paragraphs long, and we'd miss out on the angst. Not to mention Shirtless Jareth on a fur cloak:)_

_slyphxpression- Male? er...(ducking into the bathroom)...no, just checked, 'fraid not. I would've thought the excessive drooling over the leather pants and the tendency to remove Jareth's clothing would've been a hint, but...(shrug)...Come to think of it, though, I have cut down considerably on the amount of glitter and eyeshadow and poufy sleeves in this story, so I guess the confusion is understandable._


	13. Chapter 13

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 7- Desperate Times

CH 13

Sarah realized that she was being slowly but surely dragged away from the safety of the circle of reflected firelight. She was knee deep in the little beasts. The creatures were relatively small compared to the white things they had encountered earlier, about the size of her old dog, Merlin. They were black and spiky, their chitinous quills rustling against each other. It gave them an eerie, insectoid rattle as they moved in the darkness. Their eyes were huge and bulbous and utterly white, blind and milky looking in the dark. She had no idea how they could see, but they certainly seemed to be able to tell exactly where she was. Sarah punched hard at a nearby muzzle with a glittering, golden fist. It gave an odd yipping noise and Sarah recoiled in horror as it clutched at its face with two tiny human hands.

Sarah heard a horse scream and whipped her head around. To her dismay, she saw the little beasts crowding close to their mounts, creeping silently on their human fingers. They were crawling on the tree the horses were tied to, tugging on their lines. Sarah turned back to the ones clustered around her with murder in her eyes and whipped her knife out, slashing left and right, trying to clear a path so she could get to the mounts before they got injured.

By the time she'd cleared enough of them to move she had a deep bite on one forearm, and a cluster of glistening quills protruding from one thigh. They burned like hell, but she didn't have time to remove them.

She lifted her head, taking a breath, and saw Jareth was already moving among the horses. The clouds covering the moon broke for a moment, bathing the area in a soft glow. Jareth's spear glittered in the light, the markings on the wood flashing as if they were alive. The horses were making terrified noises and Jareth defended them with unearthly grace. He was leaping and dancing through a dark horde of the vile little creatures, and everywhere he stepped more of them fell.

Sarah relaxed at the sight, still moving generally in that direction but taking less chances. She was surprised to realize how far from their camp she'd been drawn. Sarah looked out at the fields around them as she jerked her knife out of the gut of one of the little beasts, frowning. She thought she'd seen, just over the hill...The clouds passed back over the moon, plunging them once again into darkness.

Disturbed, Sarah started to retreat back toward the fire. For a moment, moving up the hillside toward them, she'd seen a different kind of monster. Monsters that walked upright. With clothes and shoes and dead white eyes. The moon broke clear again and Sarah swallowed bile at the sight of them. One of the little dark things went for her throat, distracting her. She slashed her knife across its neck, kissing its flesh in one quick motion that splattered cold black blood on her face. The fluid clung to the blade as Sarah dropped her arm, turning to face the terrible things headed her way.

The approaching creatures moved like marionettes, like wooden dolls on strings. They lurched and stumbled awkwardly, because the thing that controlled them had no real idea how they ought to move. These had been thinking beings once, with lives and feelings and friends. All taken by the Black Road.

She looked down at the smaller creatures drawing close to attack her. There were lots of them, but they were only attacking in twos and threes. Wasting her time while abominations lumbered closer with blind eyes. Drawing her out.

With a flutter of panic, Sarah looked around her for the fire, and found that she'd been pulled even further away. If she tried to run for it now they would take her down before she got halfway.

Sarah heard Jareth cry out sharply and stiffened.

"No!" he shouted, his hand out flung as if to call something back. The moon shone brightly down on them, and Sarah saw their horses quite clearly, galloping free across the grass. Their lines trailed after them as they fled in a panic, the little black beasts chasing after them at a slower pace. Bim galloped right by her, avoiding the circle of beasts surrounding her and tearing off into the night.

Oh, they were too damn smart.

Gritting her teeth, Sarah pulled a Ziplock baggy filled with white rice out of her belt. She was smart, too. She tore a corner open with her teeth and scattered the tiny granules in a wide circle on the ground, furious. If they were intelligent enough to plan an attack out, they were intelligent enough to be ensnared by this little trick.

Around her, extending out from the circle of terrible little things surrounding her, came a general scream of anguish, and the beasts put their snouts to the earth and started to scrabble about franticly, as if they'd become deranged.

Jareth, already running in her direction, froze at the sound. His splendid weapon was sparkling, seeming to catch the moonlight and concentrate it until Sarah could swear it was actually glowing. He turned to look at her, far outside the edge of the firelight but clear and sharp to her eye under the moon. His torso was streaked with splatters of dark blood, and she saw the alarm in his eyes as the cry spread outward. It filled the fields around them, hundreds of terrible animals raising their voices in anguish.

They could hear their numbers, now. There were so many...

Jareth jogged up to her, looking down at the monsters clustered at her feet with interest. The creatures ignored him as they ignored her, tearing with single-minded desperation through the grass with their little human hands. Sarah stepped outside of the growing circle of them daintily, smiling a terrible smile.

"What are they doing?" Jareth asked, leaning on his spear, puzzled. Sarah checked the empty Ziplock baggy, shook out the two grains of rice that were still left inside. She held them out to him.

"Counting," she said with satisfaction. He leaned over, obligingly, to look at her hand, then raised an eyebrow at her. His wicked-looking pendant dangled over her hand. It was glowing with the same faint intensity as his spear, as if irritated by the dark things surrounding them. Sarah looked down, and saw her own pendant responding similarly. Something about that bothered her, snagging at her mind like old thread. Something she was forgetting...

Jareth was staring at her expectantly, and she shook her unease off with a faint, sheepish smile.

"An old Chinese trick," she explained. "They have to count the rice where it falls. They'll climb over each other, kill each other to get at it to count it," Sarah said with a slight smile and a shrug.

Jareth looked from her, to the creatures fumbling about anxiously in the grass. When he turned back to her there was fire in his eyes, and he began to smile. He reached out and snatched her close, kissing her roughly. A hot, electric sampling of her mouth. She jumped, startled, and he released her, laughing. His eyes flashed admiringly and he tweaked her chin with one hand.

"Clever girl," he said with a wicked grin, and then he was off, moving among them, striking them down easily while they were magically distracted. He carved a line of death through the crowd of creatures and continued on his path in more or less a straight line, running off into the night.

"Wait," Sarah said, startled, staring after him. "Where are you going?" she cried, but he was running hard and didn't hear her. The man ran like a cheetah, he was gone in a flash. A second later she heard a sharp, distinctive whistle and relaxed, recognizing it. Jareth was trying to call Bim back to him.

She turned from the sound, lifting her knife to begin the grim work of dispatching the terrible bespelled things digging at the ground behind her. She lifted her eyes and froze, looking right into the face of a taken creature that had been standing directly behind her. The pendant at her breast flared like a small sun.

It had been a birdlike creature with a small head. It was still wearing its little hat.

"No," Sarah said faintly. She remembered now. She had not thought to grab Bemony to chew. They had been attacked so suddenly...she'd forgotten. Jareth had forgotten. Now the horses had run off with it...

Its dead white eyes swelled in her vision for a moment, and then the thing fell to its knees and began to crawl around on the ground, hunting for rice. Sarah staggered back from it, horror spreading like a living thing inside her. It had felt, for a moment, as if it had reached inside her and touched her heart with one cold finger. One touch. It was enough.

Faintly, Sarah felt her hands start to burn.

She continued to back away, retreating as if mere distance could keep her from what was beginning inside her. She shook her head faintly, hysteria bubbling to the surface as she looked down at her hands, watching them flare hot and golden.

Somewhere deep inside herself, she felt something small and terrible begin to grow. Her pendant continued to increase in brightness, shooting streaks of pain though her chest. She turned her face from the light, suddenly finding it nearly unbearable, flinching and stumbling. She fell to her knees, crumpling, holding her hands away from her body as the dreamstuff started to eat into her skin.

Taken. She'd been taken.

Alone and aflame, Sarah started to scream.

She could feel it pulling at her heart, dragging her down and away into a dark place she would never return from.

"No!" she screamed, only stopping to draw breath, to scream again. She writhed and tore at the grass, fighting for all she was worth.

"Sarah." A breathless gasp, as if the person had been running. "Sarah!" he fumbled with her, grabbing for her arms, trying to stop her frantic struggling.

"No..." Sarah ground out, slitting her eyes and glaring balefully at the man. He had to get away from her, couldn't he see what she was? He reached out to cup her face and she threw her head back and shrieked. It was all she could do not to bite at him, claw at him.

She hated him. Hated. _Hate_.

"Getawayfromme," she snarled, her voice inhuman, almost unrecognizable. Her teeth felt strange in her mouth, larger than they ought to be, and she _burned_...

The man jerked back from her with horror rising behind his eyes.

"No," he gasped faintly, and then, as if in a panic, grabbed hold of her head, hard, trying to look in her eyes. His thumbs pressed at her eyelids, peeling them back as he leaned over her, pushing her flat against the ground with the weight of his body. She wanted to bite him. She wanted to _bite_...

Sarah snapped at his face and he jerked back from her. Fast, he was...Sarah grabbed two fistfuls of her own hair, streaking it with golden fire as she turned her face into the grass, away from him, the sounds coming out of her mouth far gone into panic and hysteria. She was on fire, she was so afraid...but something was eating at the fear, downing it in little bites, and Sarah shuddered in revulsion.

"Jareth," she gasped, pulling the name out of the very depths of her. She moaned high in her throat. "Leave me," she choked. "Go!" her humanity was disintegrating, melting in her hands like candy floss in the rain.

Jareth made a terrible, mangled sound above her.

"Never," he said faintly, helplessly. He stoked her hair as she writhed and growled beneath him. "Never." His voice was bizarrely sweet, given the situation. Painted with the delicate watercolors of his emotions as if he'd been whispering into her ear in his bedchamber.

She was crying, in great gulping sobs, when she went for his throat. He brought the handle of his spear up, and hit her in the face with it. She was flung to the ground, stunned. She was burning, but her heart suddenly felt very cold. He made a wounded sound above her, as if he was the one who had been struck. She lifted her head, black blood filling her mouth, dripping down her chin. His eyes went wide and round in horror.

She watched this with animal eyes, and lifted her flaming hand, tearing the burning thing from her throat and flinging it away. The man leaped for it with a cry, and she ran from him into the darkness.

She fumbled as she ran, her movements increasingly jerky, increasingly angular and strange. A huge dark thing swelled inside her, bursting at the seams, murmuring, hissing. She ran.

Dark. Good.

Something landed on her back. She staggered, snarling, trying to turn and rend its flesh...

_she would taste flesh tonight..._

...but it clung to her back, its arms wrapped tightly around her chest, pinning her arms. It pressed its face into her hair, her shoulder. It was crying, she realized.

"Never, Sarah," it wept, squeezing her tight. Her heart reacted strangely to the anguish in its voice. "Never." It brought something over her head, hung it from her neck. A small star that burned her, worse than her hands, and she screamed in rage.

"Shh," it soothed brokenly, as she struggled with frantic strength. It lifted her body, dragging her backwards.

"Jareth." It was a rough, raw sound that seemed to come from nowhere inside her, and she stilled for a moment, confused and conflicted. The sound felt strange and dead to her lips.

The thing that held her stumbled, and squeezed her tighter with a little moan, pushing its face into her shoulder. She did not like the sound. It upset her. She turned her head and snapped at him, but he was too quick, and pulled his head back before she could catch him. He pressed his mouth to the top of her head. His arms were shaking where they pinned her.

"I won't let it have you," he said desperately, his voice thick with determination. "I won't let it," he growled. "I promise."

She felt the words like a blow, but did not know why. There was something small and insistent inside her, urging her to be calm. When he started to drag her along again, this time she did not struggle.

Then he brought her to light and heat, and she remembered her hate. She growled and snarled at him, flinching from the fire, contorting her body in raw agony. He pushed her to the ground face first, his weight on her back, pinning her to the ground. She clawed at the dirt, howling, hearing her fellows in the dark howling in return. Trapped, as she was.

He was pulling things out of a bag, shiny round things, and she bucked underneath him, trying to use his distraction to break free. He lifted off her a little and she twisted onto her back, reaching out to claw at his face. He settled his weight back upon her quickly, snatching at her arms with one hand, pushing her back down. Strong. Very strong.

In his other hand he held a shiny thing. She latched onto his unprotected wrist with her sharp teeth, exulting at the sudden, sweet taste of blood. The man cried out, and with a grimace of pain he pushed his wrist further into her mouth, pinning her back against the ground with the force against her jaw. She tried to spit it out but he would not let her. He was doing something with the shiny thing, it was getting brighter, it was hot...she flinched away from it, and gave a muffled growl into his flesh. So much heat...

With a desperate snarl, he pushed the ball of fire into her chest.

Sarah drew in a sharp, shocked breath, and screamed.

* * *

_Author's Note- Continued thanks to Kore-of-Myth, who is a rockin' Beta._

_Kore-of-Myth- I'll cover her previous encounter with closing a gate more or less, but the readers'll probably need to piece it together._

_AmericanWoman- I would be perfectly willing to write pages of purple prose about Sarah's loveliness, but since this story is told from her perspective, I think that would make her rather appallingly conceited. (chapter 1- Sarah looks at herself in a mirror. Chapter 2, Sarah plucks her eyebrows...:) _

_Lixxle- (startled) pulsing groin...(going back to read over chapter) Oh, yes...I suppose that could be a little distracting...and I listened to that song again, and yes Barry White is pretty funny. Something about that line in Marvin Gaye's song always gets me, though. 'We're all sensitive people...' (Oh ARE we?) It's just so...sleezy pick-up line in a bar. I can't get over it._

_sylphxpression- well, I did not say I'd get rid of the eyeshadow. Or the poufy sleeves and glitter, for that matter. Just cut it back a bit. I for one imagine that even in the middle of the wilderness in a fight to the death Jareth could manage some tasteful eyeshadow and a bit of sparkle. And leather pants. Good for riding._

_violetmadme- as per your request, Sarah did not burn her hair. Just her hands. And her soul. (mwah-ha-ha...)_


	14. Chapter 14

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 10- Devotion

CH 14

_Sarah walked barefoot down the long, concrete pier. She'd left her shoes somewhere behind, but the pier was warm on her toes and she didn't mind. There was a thick fog settled in, and Sarah could not see the shore. She couldn't even see the end of the pier. Everything just faded away to white. She looked down at the blue gray water sloshing against the supports. She could not see the bottom. There was a good breeze and some chop to the surface._

_She inhaled deeply. She could not smell salt in the air, so perhaps she was on a lake. Uncaring, she continued to stroll, enjoying the soothing sound the water made, the way the light breeze played with her hair. There was metal grating set into the concrete every few feet, so she could look down into the water underneath the pier._

_As she went along, a lighthouse melted into view. Strangely, it was not lit. There were fishermen beside it at the end of the pier, the black arch of their poles cutting through the fog, lines trailing in the water. _

_There was a voice, calling from the fog to the fishermen, and Sarah smiled in amusement as she realized there was a boat out there on the lake, it's crew trying to make certain they didn't run into the pier. If she squinted she could just make out the dark smudge of a sailboat through the fog._

_The voice continued to call, and Sarah swung her arms, relaxed, strolling closer to the end of the pier. It was an odd sort of day, she thought. There was something about the place that was almost...numb. The fog painted a surreal picture. As if the world was wrapped up in cotton._

_Sarah was surprised and oddly touched when she realized the man on the boat had started singing. He had a beautiful voice, and there was something about it that tugged on her memory, sending a ripple of unease through her oddly placid mood._

He was singing...She was being held very tightly, and he was stroking her hair. There was something inside her that felt terribly torn, ripped and flapping free in a high wind. He seemed to know it, and when he sang it was better, she felt better, more whole and she didn't know why...

_Sarah looked down as she reached the end of the pier and realized with a jolt that there were no fishermen there. There were chairs, empty plastic chairs and fishing poles propped up, trailing lines into the lake. Nothing else. There was no one here._

_Sarah turned sharply to look back the way she had come. There was no one._

_The boat, she realized with a chill. She'd heard him calling, but she had never heard anyone answering him, she'd just assumed..._

_His voice as he sang sounded very tired, she realized guiltily. Tired and frightened and losing hope. She could still make out the dim shape of the sail through the fog._

'Are you in danger?'_ whispered a strange, steely voice from a deep place in her mind._

_She had to help him._

"_Here," Sarah called out to him, lifting her arm and waving. "I'm here!"_

Sarah was warm and very comfortable. She felt heavy and sleepy in a delightful way, as if there was nothing else her body would rather do at that moment than to relax exactly the way she was relaxing. She shifted a little with a happy sigh, and brushed up against something cold and yielding. It felt...it felt like a body.

Sarah opened her eyes, and looked right into Jareth's face. His eyes were open, and for a chilling moment she thought he was dead, until he smiled at her.

"Jareth," she said, unnerved by how still he was. "What's wrong?" She sat up, pushing back the thick fur cloak that was draped over her. They'd moved, she realized. They weren't in the same place they had been when she...

"Oh, my god," Sarah breathed, her memory hitting her like a brick to the head. She looked down at her hands. They were unmarred, but utterly devoid of the golden glitter of Jareth's dreams. She fumbled at her shirt and found the silver pendant Jareth had given her, shining innocuously against her skin in the late afternoon sunlight.

He'd pushed something into her chest. Sarah went cold. A ball of fire.

"It's alright," Jareth sighed softly from beside her. Sarah turned to him, scooting close to him, cupping his face. He was so cold, she almost couldn't bear to touch him. Jareth had made crystals ahead of time to bring with them on the journey. One he had used to make her mirror. The other had been meant to be used to seal the gate into this world when they found it. A concentration of light and heat...Sarah pushed the hair back from Jareth's face, shaking her head.

"Jareth, you didn't," she said helplessly. He hadn't used the only thing they'd had to save his whole world on her. Jareth smiled at her faintly, and her heart sank. "No," she breathed, trying to make it true through force of will alone.

"I had to," he sighed, his mismatched eyes devouring the sight of her. "I promised."

My kingdom for a girl, Sarah thought with teetering hysteria. She leaned over him, resting her forehead against his, lowering her eyes.

"Oh, no," she whispered. "Oh Jareth, it wasn't worth it." There were hundreds, thousands of creatures in his kingdom. She was only one person...

His smile took on a familiar edge.

"That's a matter of opinion, precious thing," he said with weary amusement, and Sarah jerked back from him, appalled at his flippancy.

"How could you-"

"I made another," Jareth interrupted, and when she looked startled, added, "I can do that, you know." His voice sharpened a bit with sarcasm, and Sarah smothered a smile, relief making her giddy. She slumped a little, letting out a long sigh of relief.

"You could've said," she said, relaxing.

Jareth, white and cold, smiled slightly and shut his eyes. He looked exhausted.

He was so still...

"Hoggle should have brought replacement plants back from the Bog by now," Sarah said slowly, feeling a sudden chill. "Why are you still so cold?"

Jareth did not open his eyes.

"No more," he said faintly, as if he was already dropping off to sleep again. Sarah stiffened in alarm. That was impossible, even if Hoggle couldn't find any in the Bog, they had...

Sarah took a good long look around their camp and felt very dim all of a sudden.

"The horses?" she asked quietly. Bim and Windle did not appear to be with them.

"Gone," Jareth sighed, as if he no longer cared. Sarah did not see most of their gear. Though that would make sense if he'd had to carry everything himself. Not to mention the fact that he'd had to carry her, as well.

Sarah felt a pang of guilt, and winced. He was so strong, but even so, Sarah did not recognize the place where they were camped at all. There were more trees here than she'd ever seen outside of the labyrinth itself. Jareth had brought her a long way. He'd already been strained from the unfiltered presence of the dark portal in his labyrinth. It must have been hellish for him.

Jareth had built a fire, and drawn up a respectable store of wood to feed it. Sarah's bag was the only one within sight, though it looked fuller than it had been. Everything was within arm's reach of Jareth's spot on the ground, she realized, and Sarah suddenly wondered how long they had been here, and how long Jareth had intended them to be able to stay.

She looked down at him, drew her fingers through his hair. He sighed, already dozing.

"How long have you been carrying me?" she asked gently, fondly. A smile flickered to his lips.

"Forever," he breathed. She leaned down and kissed him lightly. His mouth was cold, and he tasted strange. He did not respond to her, and she pulled back, alarm fluttering in her chest.

"Jareth?" she said, suddenly afraid.

"You'll have to do it," Jareth managed, his voice sounding very far away. "You'll have to..."

He hadn't moved. He hadn't moved once since she'd woken up.

"I'm done," she barely caught the words, they were so quiet. He said nothing else, and for a stricken moment Sarah thought he had died right in front of her. Then he inhaled, and Sarah considered fainting in relief.

She could not wake him again, however, no matter what she tried. She couldn't even warm him. He just seemed to suck in heat and never get any warmer. She cried over him then, a little. It seemed like it was all she could do for him. She couldn't see how she could ever get to the gate without the horses, not and carry him with her. She couldn't see how she could ever bear to leave him behind. It was a miserable situation.

While she sat there, holding his head in her lap and sniffling over him, she noticed his spear lying beside him, shining with otherworldly beauty. Close at hand, if Jareth had needed it, and had the strength to use it. She looked a little closer and saw, with a little jolt, her compact lying on the ground beside his spear. Close at hand.

Jareth murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, and Sarah hugged him closer. She was leaning down enough to make out what he said next.

"Never," Jareth whispered fiercely, lost in terrible dreams. "Never."

Sarah gritted her teeth, her heart reacting dangerously. She pressed her hand to her mouth. Sarah couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so helpless. This was unbearable.

She picked up the compact, scrubbing her face clear of tears. She couldn't imagine Hoggle would be of any help to her at all, but at the moment she was just hungry for a friendly face.

"Hoggle?" she called, fighting hard against despair.

Hoggle's face, when it came into view, was utterly shocked.

"Oh, my god," he choked, "Sarah, you-"

"Sarah?" came a sharp, aristocratic voice from behind him, and Sarah's mouth dropped open.

"Marcus?" she said disbelievingly, as he stepped into view behind Hoggle. They were outside, the stones of the labyrinth golden at their backs. Marcus grinned at her like a schoolboy, and clapped Hoggle on the shoulder. Hoggle looked on the verge of tears. "What are you doing here?" she sputtered.

Marcus took a deep breath and seemed to get about three inches taller.

"Ah, Sarah, I could kiss you," he said, beaming. "You scared us," he glanced down at Hoggle, who was sniffling messily into a handkerchief. "All of us," Marcus amended.

"But how?" Sarah demanded. She felt a sudden twinge. A reminder of her past disappointment. "You said I needed to make my own mistakes."

Marcus flinched.

"I didn't expect that to include the destruction of your soul," he said roughly. "If I'd known, I would have," he hesitated, and then lifted his head and spoke firmly. "Well, I would have thrown you over my shoulder and dragged you off, frankly. I'd have tied you to my blasted mast, if necessary."

Sarah narrowed her eyes a little. It wasn't exactly the apology she'd been hoping for.

"Well, I'd have tried, anyway," Marcus added with a sigh. "Your man Jareth gave me a call, and he's not an easy one to ignore." He looked a bit put out. "I've got glitter all over my cabin."

Despite everything, Sarah smiled.

"I suppose you shouldn't have tried to ignore him then," she said, stroking Jareth's forehead possessively.

"Hmm," Marcus said with characteristic wit and charm. "I'll assume he's still alive?" Sarah gave him a very cold look.

"Still," she said shortly. "Marcus, what have you done?"

"I've helped your friend guard his hole into damnation," Marcus responded with some starch. "And given him some advice about how best to kill himself, since that's what he seems bent on."

"What do you mean?" Sarah pressed, alarmed. Marcus regarded her narrowly for a moment.

"Did he finish making his flashy little doodad to seal the gate?" he asked. Sarah hesitated.

"Yes, but..." she reached over to her bag with a pang of doubt and opened it. Nestled neatly among her things were two crystals. She touched them, hesitantly. One of them felt strange, kind of spongy, as if she could push her hand right through. The other was warm, and when she lifted it out of her bag, she saw flames reflected within it.

Marcus watched this, and nodded soberly as she brought out the crystal.

"Hmm," he said, looking grim. "In that case, I'm surprised he's still alive." Sarah looked at him, stricken, and he shrugged, shaking his head.

"He's got himself a nasty connection to this ridiculous place, Sarah," Marcus said. Sarah gritted her teeth at the slight, finding it unreasonably infuriating. "He's stretched past his limits fighting this thing on his own. He didn't have the power to make another one of those pretty little pieces of phantasmagoria and live to tell the tale, but he's as pigheaded as any fellow I've ever met." He looked apologetic. "He wouldn't listen to me."

Sarah dropped her eyes to the pale figure sleeping in her lap.

"What did you expect him to do, Marcus?" she asked quietly. "It's his kingdom." She felt her eyes start to sting again, and blinked a tear down her cheek. "He shouldn't have tried to save me," she said forlornly.

He's dying because he saved me, whispered a soft little voice in her head. Sarah spent a moment hating that little voice. She had a sudden mad urge to tear her heart out of her chest just to get away from it.

Marcus was looking at her with ancient eyes that missed nothing. He looked very soft for a moment. Almost sorry for her.

"Sarah, no!" Hoggle said sharply. "You're worth ten of him."

Marcus frowned at him, and Sarah scowled.

"At the very least," Marcus said, more diplomatically, "He got you into this, and the least he could do is get you out of it."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, confused.

"For god's sake, child, haven't you done your best yet?" He said in exasperation.

Sarah gave him a very bland look. He knew better.

"You tell me," she said. Marcus sighed, and smoothed his fine white mustache over his lips.

"All right," he began, and Sarah relaxed. "You've got two days to reach the gate, Sarah."

"Two-" she sputtered

"Easy, girl, Jareth's got you most of the way." Marcus said seriously. "On the morning of the third day his Goblins will give you the distraction you need to get in unnoticed. You have to be there by then."

"Distraction?" Sarah prompted.

"They been following along, maybe two or three days behind you. According to Jareth they're spread out in clusters, all along the Road, and they've got orders to set fire to the prairie at dawn on the thirteenth day."

Sarah looked down at Jareth's slack face, impressed and appalled. Jareth was burning his kingdom to save it. She bit her lip.

"I'll never be able to carry him so far," she said, faintly.

"Sarah," Marcus said, disappointed. There was that strange sympathy on his face again, as if he knew something she didn't. Hoggle looked at her like she'd grown another head. Sarah clenched her fists.

_'Never,' Jareth whispered fiercely. _

"You don't understand," she ground out. "I can't leave him."

Marcus blew out a long breath, making the hairs on his mustache flutter. He folded his arms thoughtfully.

"I'm no slouch," he said slowly. "I might be able to bring him through here."

Sarah was surprised and oddly touched by the offer. Marcus didn't often push himself that hard. She looked at him uncertainly.

"But he'll still die," she said, feeling ill. Marcus spread his hands in an elegantly helpless gesture.

"He'll die in a bed," he said quietly. "That's more than most can say. And I'll be here to help deal with the mess, after he's...well, I imagine the portal on this end of things will start spreading fast, and we'll need to get the folk around here out."

Jareth would die, and she wouldn't be there. Sarah put her head down, her eyes welling over. It made her feel helpless to blubber like this but he was going to die, and he would never know anything...Sarah scrunched up her face and cried hard for several minutes. It had been a terrible day. She figured she was allowed.

"Don't cry," Hoggle said sadly. "Not for him."

Sarah gritted her teeth, fighting a sudden urge to scream. A girl could only feel so many things all at once.

"Sarah," Marcus said gently, giving Hoggle a subtle kick, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry."

Sarah nodded silently, nearly blinded by tears.

"Isn't there anything, anything I can do to give him more time? Anything at all?" she pleaded. "You said yourself he shouldn't be alive, but he is. If he can hold on for two more days..."

Marcus sighed and looked away.

"I suppose if we had some kind of magical object," he said, sounding like he was working it through as he went along, "something he'd made himself," Marcus continued thoughtfully, and Sarah's eyes came to rest on Jareth's glittering spear. "Something with a lot of his power behind it, or it wouldn't be worth it," he added.

Sarah went very still. Almost on its own, her hand pressed lightly against her chest.

"What would I do with it, if I had it?" Sarah asked, her heart beating wildly under her fingers.

"At this point, just bringing it into contact with his skin should be enough," Marcus said with a shrug. "Why? Do you have-"

"I'll let you know how it goes," Sarah said quickly, and snapped the compact shut. If Marcus knew what she was about to do he would be furious. Marcus hadn't lied, he was no slouch, and if given warning, he might try something devious to stop her.

Sarah didn't know for certain who had made Jareth's spear. She assumed he had, it certainly felt like him, but she didn't know how much power had been put into it.

Sarah needed the mirror. Putting Toby out of it, the thing was just too useful for her to destroy.

She no longer had the dreamstuff embedded in her hands. Whether she'd burned through it becoming a monster, or it had just faded on its own, it was gone.

The only other thing...

Sarah took a deep breath, parted her shirt, and pulled the silver necklace over her head. Without it she would be unprotected. Not just from the denizens of the Black Road, but from the world itself. Marcus was right, the labyrinth resided in a crooked little world where time moved very fast compared to normal life, and people changed into other things very rapidly.

Sarah would be here for more than two days yet. Quite a bit longer than thirteen hours. She had no idea what would happen to her. Somehow, given the circumstances, she couldn't force herself to care.

She laid the pendant on his chest carefully. She only hoped it was powerful enough.

"Two more days," she urged softly, and held her breath.

At first there was nothing. His breathing was shallow, his cheek ice cold under her hand. Then her pendant started to glow, just the faintest shine. The intensity increased until she flinched, squeezing her eyes shut, turning her face away. There was a strange impression of flapping movement, and the wind picked up, lifting her hair from the back of her neck.

When she looked down, Jareth was gone. In his place was a snowy white owl, fluttering agitatedly on the ground as if wounded.

Oh, he really was brilliant. That was smart of him, really smart. She knew he could change, she'd seen him change after she'd defeated him in the labyrinth. It took a lot less energy to maintain a smaller form. He would last much longer as an owl than as a man, and now that she was awake and able to care for herself he'd gone for it. All he'd needed was a bit of extra power to do it, and she'd given it to him with the return of her pendant.

Tentatively, she reached out to the unhappy animal, unsure if he would recognize her. His feathers were all disheveled, and he eyed her hand as if considering how she might taste. Sarah paused just shy of touching him, trying as best she could not to seem aggressive.

The owl regarded her suspiciously for a moment, and then slowly lifted a foot. Toby kept parakeets, and Sarah's heart relaxed a little at the familiar avian gesture. She tugged her sleeve down over her wrist and held it low enough for the beautiful bird to step onto her arm voluntarily. The talons were a lot sharper than she'd expected and she winced a little. She would have to wrap something around her forearm, if she was going to carry him.

She would carry him, Sarah realized with a jolt. She could keep him with her easily in this form. If anything dangerous came up he could fly away. And if...if two days was longer than he had, he could stay with her until the end. She brought the owl up close to her face, marveling at how lovely the markings were around its eyes. She reached out with one finger, brushing his feathers lightly.

So soft...He ruffled his feathers a little, scooted closer to her body as if he approved of her. She brushed the feathers between his eyes lightly, daringly, and the owl allowed it, shutting his eyes as if he enjoyed the attention.

Sarah was seized by a sudden, fierce possessiveness, and abruptly decided to postpone her conversation with Marcus.

"You're staying with me," Sarah breathed quietly. The owl cocked its head at her as if it understood.

* * *

_Author's Note: This story is looking like it wants to go adult, in the next chapter, or the one after that. (not with the owl, no one get nervous...) If there is any one who can't abide by that, speak now or forever hold your peace. I'm not saying I'll listen or anything, but feel free to speak...I'm also accepting bribes, come to think of it...  
_

_Lixxle- you got me, the Bemony was the villain, all this time. And it would have got away with it too, if not for you meddling kids._


	15. Chapter 15

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 11- Villainy

CH 15

Sarah had a sinking suspicion that she wasn't going to make it in time. The forest had thickened into a nightmarish tangle of greenery. Sarah was having trouble keeping her feet, much less making good progress.

It was also getting very cold. She was grateful for the cloak Jareth had given her. She would've loved to be able to thank him, or even give him that kiss he'd bargained for in exchange for it. Unfortunately the Goblin King in question was currently an owl, and not likely to understand or appreciate the gratitude.

Sarah stumbled over a glitter-encrusted tree root and cursed. The owl flailed his wings in silent irritation in order to keep his perch on her shoulder. Sarah sighed, sitting down on the offending root for a rest stop. The owl (it was too strange, somehow, to think of him as Jareth) had chosen his spot on her shoulder as they traveled, hunkering down as best he could. Fluffing his feathers against the wind and squinting his great shining eyes against the light. There was a hint of something in those eyes that would have disturbed her if she hadn't known he was a transformed creature. Something aware, and thinking much more than a simple animal ought to.

Sarah searched for a moment through her pack and brought out what she was seeking with a weary sigh. She gnawed glumly on her jerky stick, trying to get it down fast enough to avoid tasting it.

She would give real money for a pizza, right about now...Looking down at the stick in her hand, Sarah admitted that at the point she was at she'd give real money for a rice cake. She broke a bit of jerky off and the owl consented to nibble on it, looking even more miserable than she was. When she lifted a hand to stroke his feathers she could tell he was shivering.

Her heart clenched up a little and she helped him down off her shoulder, letting him rest on her forearm and holding him close to her chest.

"Another day or so," she urged softly, running her fingers lightly through his feathers, wishing that she could do more. Had Jareth felt this way, caring for her? Helpless and useless. It was awful. She tugged at her cloak, pulled it over the chilled bird, sort of tucking him in close to her body.

He huddled up to her chest as if grateful for the warmth. She could feel his little heart pounding against her. The woods around them were utterly silent so close to the road. Sarah could not imagine how sad and lonely it would be for her out here if she was alone.

"A little longer," Sarah soothed, lifting her legs up onto the root, curling herself around the small trembling form as if it were the most precious thing in the whole world. He hooted softly, as if pleased.

She kept him tucked close to her body when she started walking again, keeping the cloak tugged down to cover him. Sarah tried to ignore how he was leaning on her, how weak the grip on her forearm had become. By the time she finally staggered to a halt and surrendered to the necessity of at least a few hours sleep she was effectively carrying the bird in her arms. He fluttered feebly as she pulled the cloak away to get a look at him.

"Oh," Sarah said, her heart in her voice. "Oh no." She looked down at the sad little tangle of feathers in her arms and blinked back tears. He wasn't going to make it.

Sarah shook herself and blinked her eyes furiously. It was too cold for him. They needed a fire. She tore the cloak off her own shoulders and made it into a little nest for him, tucking him carefully inside it. Then she went off to get some firewood. Given the vicious, tangled nature of the forest around them, it wasn't a difficult task, but the cold took its toll on her. It was hard to light a fire with frozen fingers.

In this particular instance, even when it was lit, the fire didn't cheer. The sun had finally set; In all rights the owl should be more active in the dark but if anything he was worse. He was limp and still in her arms, his heartbeat slow against the palm of her hand. Much slower than it had been even a few hours earlier.

The light from the fire made his white feathers glow softly, made the smooth dark curve of his beak shine. She brushed her finger over it lightly. He wouldn't open his eyes anymore.

"Don't die," Sarah said quietly, leaning close. She kissed him gently between the eyes and he stirred slightly in her arms.

If this were a proper fairy story, Sarah thought sadly, he would turn into himself, healthy and whole at the touch of her lips. Sarah was possessed of the nasty certainty that this was another kind of story altogether.

She had intended to sleep, she really had, but as time passed and the owl's heartbeat continued to slow, her anxiety ratcheted up higher and higher. Very shortly the idea of sleep was ridiculous, and Sarah was going over her limited options in a state very near to panic. She took out her compact, but didn't use it.

She'd already talked with Marcus earlier in the day. There had been a slim possibility that the horses might just show up at their stables back in the labyrinth, their packs brimming with the plants they needed. Equines tended to have a homing sense that offered at least a small portion of hope. Marcus had informed her they were still missing, and that no other Bemony had been found. No one knew how long Blotch had been walking around possessed, or what he had been doing while he was. Sarah had a hunch it had involved a lot of digging in the Bog, and probably a few small fires.

Marcus had been very tense when she'd talked to him, as if he was just waiting for her to ask him an uncomfortable question. She hadn't bothered. She knew asking him was pointless. It was his one weak point, the one area of his life that he approached madness in his stubbornness.

His world, and almost everything in it save himself was gone. Destroyed and lost in time. The one thing, the only thing he had left of it was a single seed he kept on his person at all times. Sarah knew how powerful it was, she had once had one herself and had used it to save an entire world. Marcus had been willing to die before parting with his, and that was a level of lunacy Sarah wasn't even going to try to understand.

'You've got the seed, Marcus. You could end this right now and Jareth wouldn't have to die.' Even knowing all she knew about him, Sarah had nearly said it. She'd bitten her tongue, but not to spare him the heartache of refusing her (and he would refuse her). Nor because she cared more for his heart than Jareth's life. She hadn't asked him because she didn't want to tip her hand. She needed Marcus to believe after what had happened last time, she would never ask him to make the sacrifice. She would never get him to buy what she had in mind if he suspected for an instant that it wasn't on the level.

Jareth had called her cruel, once. She had been a child when she ran the labyrinth, and not all of her time spent there was entirely clear in her memory, but that bit had stuck. At the time, even though she'd been distracted and desperate to get to Toby, that had stung her. It had bothered her for some time afterwards because it was, unfortunately, quite true. Sarah was quite capable of being extraordinarily cruel. She tried not to be. She tried to keep an eye out for that particular sharp edge to her heart, tried to blunt it for other people's sake.

Sarah was cruel, so she avoided asking Marcus to help her. If she was a kind girl she would have begged him openly to plant the last piece of his homeland in front of the portal in the labyrinth and save someone she...

Well. She would have just asked him. But Sarah was cruel, and she was thinking about doing something a kind girl would never consider.

In one hand, she held the compact. In her other hand rested the soft white feathers of the owl that was dying in her arms. Her hand toyed with the clasp on the compact, but didn't open it.

Not an owl, Sarah thought suddenly. Jareth. She looked down at the little creature in her lap. That was Jareth, damn it, and he was dying right in front of her...Sarah did not open the compact right away, because her heart had seized up so tightly in her chest she couldn't get any air at all. She bent over Jareth, gasping for breath.

Alright, Sarah thought, suddenly so furious with Marcus she couldn't have cared less if she ripped his heart right out of his chest with this next stunt. She pulled the cloak off her shoulders, tucked Jareth gently inside the warmth of the fur. Enough was enough.

"Marcus, help me!" she cried franticly. His face came into view in the mirror immediately. Sarah turned from him, looking about wildly into the darkness. She was utterly alone, with not so much as a squirrel interrupting the silence around her. Marcus, however, couldn't see that.

"Too many," she gasped, the picture of panic and distress, "there's too many of them, Marcus, I can't do this alone!"

"Sarah, hold on-" Marcus said, looking alarmed. Sarah clutched at her head, hunching over.

"They're whispering to each other," she sobbed, throwing herself into the role. "I can still hear them!"

"I'm coming-"

Sarah gave a shriek and threw herself to the ground, making certain the mirror landed reflective side down into the dirt.

"Marcus!" she wailed, scrambling back from the mirror. As if she was being dragged...then, louder, "Marcus!" a hopeless, pleading cry.

Think it through, Marcus, she thought as she took several more steps back. You can't get to me with the mirror blocked. The only person who can possibly save me is...

"Jareth!" she screamed, long and loud and hard. That one was the kicker. Sarah could act her ass off when she had to, and she put everything she had into that scream. It was desperate and bitter and wild and terrified. The last scream of someone watching themselves being eviscerated. She poured her soul into it.

Many miles away, Ludo lifted his head as if scenting game. At home, Toby awoke in a cold sweat from a nightmare. Sarah felt it in the air. Jareth in his owl form stirred as if trying to respond to her call. It was that good.

She approached the mirror lying in the dirt silently, gritting her teeth. Her fists were clenched so tightly she was digging into her own skin with her nails.

Marcus was calling for her, from the mirror, and he sounded frantic.

You can't help me, Marcus, she thought furiously. You can't. But Jareth can help me, and you can help Jareth...

It was a trick, a terrible trick, but she knew Marcus pretty well and it was the only way she was ever going to get him to help her save Jareth. The mirror grew silent, and Sarah held her breath, tears breaking free to pour down her cheeks unnoticed. He would not part with the seed to save his own life, but he just might do it to save hers.

Love me enough for this, Marcus, she thought desperately. Please, love me enough.

She heard it first through the mirror, and her knees went out from under her in blessed, liquid relief. He'd done it, good god, he'd actually done it for her. She hesitated for a split second over whether or not to pick up the compact.

What's done is done...

She fumbled with the mirror and nearly dropped it picking it up. Marcus wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the thing he had planted in front of the black portal into the labyrinth. There was a unique sound as it grew, a strange harmonic thrumming as fibers stretched and shot up at an impossible, supernatural pace. It was a beautiful and unmistakable sound, and it was the last time anyone would hear it ever again. Sarah blinked tears down her cheeks as the last tree from Marcus' world took root in the labyrinth.

Marcus knelt in front of it as it shot into the sky, and cried as if he would die.

It did not envelop the portal so much as utterly obliterate it. Pale bark gleamed white against the dark sky and golden leaves spread overhead, sparkling amongst the stars.

Sarah could hear it in the air now, right where she stood. Every creature in this world could hear it, that harmonic thrum that seemed to promise that all that was ill or wrong would soon fade away into memory. The creatures from the black road would wail in agony as the sound sliced at their ears, and good folk everywhere would smile and feel comforted, not knowing why. Sarah took a deep breath and fancied that the air felt a little cleaner, a little more wholesome.

Sarah turned to look at Jareth, and found him still feathered and unchanged. Too soon yet. She gathered him up gently, holding him close. Marcus would never forgive her, but feeling how strong the owl's little heartbeat was growing against her fingers, she could not bring herself to regret it.

The black road had just received a major blow, and not only from the destruction of the portal. Just the existence of the golden tree in this world made any threat of destruction by the Road significantly less likely. Even if all the world fell to darkness, the tree would still stand clean and untainted, and would protect the land directly around it. Perhaps an area as large as the entire labyrinth.

She couldn't tell what its presence would do to Jareth. He was tied so closely to the labyrinth, and it could not help but change after this.

Sarah looked back down at her compact, and jumped. Marcus' face filled the entire mirror. He was staring at her, and there was death on his face.

"Sarah," he hissed.

"Marcus," Sarah said, and was surprised at how quavery and uncertain her voice was. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She had never seen him look so far gone into rage. She thought suddenly, with some surprise, that he could harm her very easily if he had a mind to.

She would have laughed, if anyone had told her she would one day need to defend herself against Marcus.

"A trick," he said coldly. "A trick. Oh, Sarah," he said, his voice sharp enough to cut glass, "well done."

"Please," Sarah said softly, "I had to, you don't understand."

"Oh, I understand very well." He laughed, and it was possibly the most horrible sound she had ever heard. "Undone by a girl, for her idle fancy," he said, his voice edged with hysterical tears. Sarah would have bristled at the slight if he hadn't sounded so broken. "Betrayed by a child, and all my dreams burnt to ashes." His face twisted in hate.

"Marcus," she said, desperate to make him see, "Please, you don't understand, I love-"

"'The love I bear thee can afford no better term than this: Thou art a villain'," he snarled. Sarah jerked back from the mirror, appalled, feeling as if his words had hit with physical force.

He saw her reaction, and nodded slightly as if satisfied.

"Never call on me again," he said coldly, his eyes glittering and just slightly mad. Sarah shivered.

"Please," she breathed, blinking fresh tears down her cheeks. Oh, Marcus, please don't...

"Mark me, girl," he said with the icy determination of an oncoming glacier. "If I ever lay eyes on you again, I will kill you."

Stunned, Sarah's mind groped at the words as if she could not manage to wring the meaning from them.

Marcus paused as if savoring the anguish on her face. Then he gestured sharply. The mirror shattered in her hand. Sarah dropped it as if it was aflame, pressing a hand to her heart, shaking.

"Marcus," she said softly, sounding lost to her own ears. Pictures of him came hard and fast to her mind, of their travels together, of all his many kindnesses.

_'Dance with me...'_

There was a warm weight on her thighs that had not been there before, and Sarah looked down numbly. Jareth lay with his head resting on her lap, whole and healthy. Unfeathered and looking completely like himself, he dozed peacefully in the reflected glow from the fire.

Sarah put her head in her hands and wept.

She did not feel it when he first moved, but she did feel a light tug on one of her wrists, and looked down in watery-eyed surprise. Jareth was awake, and he looked vaguely alarmed. He'd pulled one of her hands away from her face and was gazing up at her with concern.

"Sarah?" he said, looking confused and pushing himself up out of her lap. He might have meant to say something else, but she grabbed him up in a fierce hug and it was lost. He let out a breath as she latched onto him, as if she'd done something unspeakably wonderful.

He was stunned silent, seeming like he was having trouble gathering his thoughts in the face of her onslaught of affection. Sarah was grateful for the pause, and pressed her face feverishly against his neck, wetting his shirt a bit with her tears. He was warm against her cheek, and her sudden utter delight at that fact fought a swift battle against the heartache she was feeling over Marcus. She had a rough time of it for a minute, not certain whether to laugh or cry, and ending up doing a bit of both. Her heart had taken a lot of hits in the last few days.

She heard him taking deep breaths, pressing his face back into her hair as if savoring her scent. He held her very tightly, and she remembered that he hadn't really had a chance to enjoy her return to health before succumbing himself.

"What's happened, Sarah?" he said finally, registering that she was still sniffling. He pulled back from her, straightening with a look of surprise, as if it felt good to move. "Did Marcus close the portal?" he asked, looking startled and pleased, as if he'd only just realized how much better he felt.

Sarah flinched, and turned away from him.

"Marcus is gone," she said, struggling against a fresh wave of tears. She scrubbed at her face, chilled, thinking of that horrible murderous look on his face, filling the mirror. Almost involuntarily, her eyes darted over to where the remains of her compact lay.

Jareth noticed this, and immediately moved to pick it up.

"Don't!" she said sharply, alarmed. Jareth froze, his eyebrows climbing high. His fingers had just brushed the case, enough to send slivers of mirror tinkling into the grass. He looked up at her, shocked.

"What happened?" he demanded.

Sarah bowed her head. She looked into the fire, and told him. She did her best to pretend that it was just a fairy story that had nothing to do with her.

'This is the story of Sarah and Marcus, and how two close friends became bitter enemies...'

* * *

_Authors Note- First off, Marcus was quoting Romeo and Juliet. (sitting down with Tiny Jareth, who is obligingly removing his shirt) My, what a lot of questions, I-_

hideous crashing/screeching noise _(peeking out of window) -the hell?_

_On the front lawn is a large, torn cardboard box and a small goblin in a tea cozy fighting a large calico cat. The cat's tail appears to be pinned under the box, and the goblin seems to be defending himself with a fork._

Much later...

_(sitting down and applying glittery band-aids to the wounds of a small transvestite goblin in a wig and a tea cozy. Tiny Jareth, who has appropriated a bordello jumpsuit, struts past.)_

_(leaning over)"What's the action figure wearing?"_

_Tiny Jareth points silently. The action figure is wearing a washcloth as a tiny towel wrapped around his waist. Impossibly, he manages to look rather embarrassed about this._

_"I am so not taking the heat for that..."_

_Steph- Well, Sarah lost the glittery dreamstuff, if monsters attack and she's by herself, she's going to need a big sharp spear._

_bruwench- (silently offers ice)_

"What's nads?" _asks the innocent voice of a transvestite goblin.  
_

_(snatching laptop away) __"Never you mind."_

_Lixxle- (giving a hard stare) I'm going to have to pay for that cat, you know._

"What's owl slash?" _demands a little voice, perched on the couch. Tiny Jareth snickers. (running to retrieve my box of junk jewelry, setting it down with a thunk in front of Skeep. Skeep squeals in utter joy)_

_Natsuko37- I'm sorry, I've only got the one, (glancing at the figure rather bashfully wearing a towel) and it was a gift._

_slyphxpression- I'm afraid I don't respond to begging, only bribery._

_Aethereale- Well, we've got Barry White, Marvin Gaye, and now Dido. One or two more suggestions and we'll have a soundtrack..._


	16. Chapter 16 SMUT ALERT

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 11-Possession

Ch 16

"You mean to tell me that this man, this duplicitous creature, had the means to save my labyrinth all along and kept silent?" Jareth asked sharply, his eyes flashing.

"It was all he had left, Jareth, and he didn't even know you," Sarah said with a quick shake of her head.

Jareth straightened and looked at her keenly.

"If it had been you, you would have sacrificed it," he said decisively.

"I did sacrifice it," Sarah said delicately, sadly. Jareth made an impatient, dismissive sound.

"It's only a seed, Sarah." Jareth frowned, the flickering shadows from the fire casting him in a devilish light. "Given the help he has provided I would be willing to allow him to enter my lands again, if he wishes to see his tree." Jareth hesitated when Sarah avoided looking at him. "Trees bloom. This cannot be the last one. Marcus seemed reasonable enough, I am certain he will forgive you, in time."

Sarah stared at the fire and smiled gently. This particular tree would never bloom, but she didn't have the emotional fortitude to explain the botanical reasons why.

"How old are you, Jareth?" she said instead. She waited patiently, and when he said nothing she looked over at him, her smile growing. Jareth did not exactly look caught out, but it was a near thing.

"You don't want to tell me, because you think it'll scare me." She gave him a knowing look, and he looked very briefly amused. "I'd bet real money Marcus is older than you are."

She looked out into the darkness, oddly at peace, as if she'd cried the hurt right out of herself.

"You stay the same, don't you? There are so many strange creatures in your labyrinth, all those busy things, living and dying every day, but not you. There's no one like you." She looked him dead in the eye, watching his face darken. "You're all alone here, aren't you."

"Enough," Jareth said roughly, eyes flashing.

"You feel it, how alone you are, you have to-"

"Enough!" Jareth snatched at her arms hard. Sarah leaned close to him, not backing off, pressing in within inches of his face. She watched him register her response to him, watched his eyes dilate wide and black.

"He's more alone than you are," Sarah said, making a point with her proximity to him. "Everyone he loved is dead. All he had, literally the only thing he had was that seed. Time moves so fast here. That tree will be dead in less than a hundred years in Above time." Sarah shrugged sadly. "Then he'll be the last. The last living thing from his world in all of creation." She bowed her head.

"He wanted so badly not to be the last," she murmured. "I took that from him."

Jareth tilted his head, his expression just slightly startled, as if he'd had a thought that surprised him.

"He was your friend, and you betrayed him," he said, a faint hint of reproach in his voice.

Sarah flinched back from him, giving him a pained, disbelieving look.

She'd done it for him...

But Jareth's face was blank, his eyes sharp and glittering in the firelight. He watched her reaction like he was taking notes inside his head. As if she was a puzzle and he was sitting there, shoving pieces together to see if they fit. Sarah shook her head and stood with a faint sound of hurt, turning and striding away from the fire. Away from him.

Unbelievable. Unbelievable, infuriating man.

She did not get very far. He came up behind her and grabbed hold of her, pinning her arms to her sides, and crossing his arms over her chest. He brought her up roughly against his body and the raw familiarity of the position froze her in her tracks.

"Why did you do that, Sarah?" he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against the side of her face. "He was your friend. Why?" There was a barely restrained urgency in his voice, as if he was more desperate to know the answer to that question than she could possibly know.

"For you," Sarah said quietly, shaken. Her heart was shocked terribly by the echo of the embrace he had given her when she was being taken over. He sagged a little, at her back, as if her words had struck him hard. He tightened his embrace of her, pressing his face against her shoulder, and Sarah relaxed against him with an icy shiver of memory.

She remembered being taken. She remembered very well. He hadn't hesitated for a moment, promising to free her. He'd offered up his own life on a platter for her. All she'd thrown at him was her friendship with Marcus. Looking at the two sacrifices, Sarah could not deny whose devotion looked more sincere. The thought left her heart rather warm and trembly. The sensation was akin to having a frightened rabbit sitting in her chest.

"Tell me why, Sarah. You betrayed him-" Jareth urged her, the restraint in his voice crumbling rapidly.

"I'd do it again," Sarah said quietly, her voice almost strangled by the strange, shivery warmth that was radiating from high in her chest. It felt like the rabbit in question was attempting to escape.

Jareth went still against her back, and his arms loosened from around her.

"Look at me," he said sharply, pulling at her shoulders, trying to turn her. "Look at me..." his voice went breathy on the last as she let him cup her face, lifting it to the light. His eyes searched her face franticly, as if searching for something in her face that she'd given away in her voice.

"You sang to me, when I was hurt," Sarah said softly, looking up at him. "I heard you." She had an idea of what he was searching for, in her voice and in her face. Reciprocation.

'The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.'

"Yes," Jareth said, looking briefly bemused by her non sequitur.

Sarah's face crumpled, and she curled her hands into fists.

"Why did you do that?" she asked miserably. Jareth's eyes went wide. She tried to turn her face away but he stopped her, cupping her cheeks in his hands, forcing her to face the light so he could see her expression. Sarah blinked hot tears down her face, her throat constricting tightly. "I could've taken anything but that," she said faintly. She could have kept her heart safe from him, she was certain she could have, if only he hadn't sung to her.

What could she do after that? How could anyone stand resolute, after that? She was sunk. She was totally sunk...

Jareth inhaled deeply and seemed to gain about six inches of height. He looked electrified, as if at any moment he might arc raw voltage and soar off into the sky. He brushed at her face with his fingertips, almost as if reassuring himself that she was real, that the expression on her face was real.

"You..." he said faintly, disbelievingly. His voice trailed off as he traced the line of her jaw, tilting her head up just slightly to get a better look into her eyes. He laughed faintly, a single breath of laughter that might just as easily have been a sob. The sound burned with raw longing and hot joy.

He leaned in and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She froze, choking as the little warm thing in her chest beat franticly against her ribcage in a bid for freedom. Instead, he tilted his head at the last instant, bringing his mouth close enough to her cheek that she could feel his lips brushing the downy hairs there. She felt a slight wet flick of warmth as he just barely pushed his tongue past his lips and touched her cheek with it.

He was tasting her tears, she realized with a jolt. He was tasting the evidence of her feelings for him. It was not a human gesture at all, but it was shockingly intimate. Sarah felt very bare all of a sudden, though she was still fully clothed. The furry little trembly thing in her chest went very still, as if it was being stroked in a fashion it liked. Sarah shut her eyes and shivered.

He trailed his mouth down, lingering at her jaw line. Without conscious thought, Sarah tilted her head, baring her throat. He made a soft, anxious sound and pressed his lips to her pulse, licking her there as if he could taste it.

Sarah sighed, pleased and aching softly. Jareth seemed to be unprepared for this reaction. He stiffened, his hands squeezing her shoulders once, hard. Then with a soft groan he pushed his face back into her hair, his arms twining around her, urging her closer to him. He pressed himself full length against her body, letting her feel in no uncertain terms exactly how pleased he was that she was there.

Sarah pressed herself against him in response, shifting her hips against his erection with a little thrill at the sensual contact between their bodies. He hissed a breath in between his teeth, a little shudder going through him from head to toe. Then he pulled back and kissed her with wild abandon, kisses that left Sarah feeling as though she was being devoured whole.

Sarah thought rather helplessly that she was about to go right out of her head. He slid one hand up to cup the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. Sarah threw both her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. She was getting deep jolts with each press of his lips against her. It felt like he was touching her in a place much more fundamental than her mouth, and she was growing more certain by the second that they were beginning something that would have devastating affects on her later.

He'd pulled her forward, step by step, distracting her with the hot possessiveness of his kisses, with the soft sounds of joy he made against her lips. When he started to tug her down to her knees she hesitated, but he continued down and carried on as if delighted by the opportunity. He pushed her shirt up with one hand as he knelt in front of her, his other arm snaking around and getting a pleasingly firm grip on her waist. She rested her hands on his shoulders, her fingers dipping below the collar of his shirt, spreading the material away from his skin, hungry for the heat of his flesh. Jareth darted forward and flicked his tongue over her stomach, making her jump. A sharp tingle shot from the skin that he'd touched to parts south. He started to nibble at her waistband, inhaling deeply the scent of her, and Sarah's knees got rather wobbly. He just didn't act quite human. His responses were a little...off. She supposed she should have suspected, but she had to admit, it was an decidedly pleasant surprise.

Jareth dipped his tongue just underneath the lip of her waistband, a wet line of heat, and Sarah's knees went out entirely. Jareth's arm tightened around her waist, and he slowly brought her down to his level using only the strength in the one arm.

God, he was strong. He was clever, too, and as Sarah slid down, her shirt was pushed up. He whipped it over her head in a flutter of white and looked down at her decidedly modern undergarments with hungry eyes.

There was something Sarah was supposed to tell him. There was something he needed to know not to do, but Jareth was standing there looking at her as if she were his only hope for salvation in all the world, and her heart and her body had ganged up together and were shouting at her with increasingly creative ideas on how best to ravish him.

Was he not supposed to ask her to leave? Not supposed to ask her...

"Jareth," she said, holding up a hand as if to tell him to wait. It was getting harder and harder to think.

"Yes," Jareth said, his voice raw. "Anything. Yes." His voice was shaking. He was shaking.

The bottom dropped out from under her thoughts. Sarah opened her mouth and forgot to shut it . Jareth's voice had been utterly sincere. _Anything._

Sarah realized, belatedly, that she had reached out and grabbed two handfuls of Jareth's shirt, and pulled him into a rough, possessive kiss. He was making little sounds against the press of her mouth. Marvelous, needy, exciting sounds. She altered her grip a little and ripped the shirt right off his back. The buttons made satisfying popping noises as they went. Then they were both tearing desperately at confining cloth, twisting and squirming out of clothes and boots. Sarah pressed her mouth against the base of his neck, her lips caressing the hollow of his throat as she fumbled with the fastening of his pants, shoving them down savagely. Jareth's arms pulled around her tight, bringing her up roughly against his chest to better plunder her mouth.

The warm, bare heat of him brushed lightly against her inner thigh and she grabbed two handfuls of his hair, bringing him down, pulling him to her. Sarah reclined back against her cloak and Jareth followed, resting against her, a solid warmth against her chest that made her want to cry out in triumph. Her body was singing, wrapped up in a fine, burning physical joy that was tangling deliciously with a much more dangerous emotional one.

Jareth reached out, stroking his hands over her modern undergarments and Sarah twisted beneath him with a desperate, impatient sound, her hands going back to remove her bra, tugging at the cloth. Her fingers had just unhooked the clasp when Jareth leaned forward smoothly and licked the tip of her exposed nipple. A flick of his tongue, and then he looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire.

She would swear later that she could actually feel the hormones dump over her head by the bucketful. Both of her nipples tightened immediately and she gasped for air, lightheaded with pure gnawing lust.

Jareth smiled a dark, delighted smile at her reaction, and leaned over her with deliberate grace, bowing his head to her other nipple. He laved it with his tongue, pressing her back against the softness of her cloak. She twined her fingers through Jareth's hair as he lavished attention upon her, his lips trailing down from the peak of her nipple, pausing to linger above her beating heart. He rubbed his face there like a cat, his arms going tight around her, and the warm thing her heart had become leaped in her chest as if trying to go to him.

His erection brushed deliciously against her thigh and Sarah gasped, lifting her hips, lifting herself up against his body. He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring at the scent of her, and Sarah watched something inside him break.

He rose up, his face one big terrible ache, and pressed himself against her solidly. Pressed up against her but not entering. A wonderful, unbearable friction of skin on skin. Her body lit up like a candle. The shock of them coming together was such a blinding, visceral delight that Sarah wondered if she would be able to handle having sex with him. She might drop dead of a stroke somewhere in the middle of it.

Jareth gave a low, hurt-sounding moan and moved his hips, rocking against her with a shudder at the deliciousness of the sensation. Sarah gave a soft cry, arching her back, pulling at him, trying to bring him closer. He was so close to her, but not close enough...

"I have wanted this," he sighed, bending to kiss her, breathing the words into her lips, "so long..."

Her heart fluttered once, like the beat of a butterfly's wings, reacting to the sincerity in his voice.

He shifted his hips, moving a little lower, nudging against her. Pushing in at just the right spot. He slid inside her as easily as if he'd always belonged there. Sarah could not even gasp. The pleasure was so sharp it almost felt like pain.

Jareth pushed on, not stopping until his hips were fitted tightly against hers. He growled softly and kissed her, biting gently at her lower lip. Claiming her.

"Oh," Sarah said faintly against his lips. It was a raw sound, hot with longing. Sarah wanted to speak, wanted to plead with him to keep on doing what he was doing, but some essential neurons shorted out on the way from her brain to her mouth and she could not manage to recall how to form the words.

Then he was fucking her, thoroughly and deeply, long strokes that made her want to cry out just from the sheer invasion of it, as if he was trying to mark her as his forever.

Sarah braced herself on his arms, lifting herself to meet him and he groaned at her response, changing the angle of his thrust, coming up against her with devastating determination. Sarah shut her eyes and her head went back, going limp for a moment in reaction.

Deep, god, he was so far into her...

Sarah drew her legs up around his waist and Jareth froze for an instant as the new position brought them even closer together. When Jareth moved again, he did not pull away from her, only pushed on, deep and deeper, not giving her a moment's relief in withdrawal, every motion of his body the distilled urge to get closer to her, to get more of her, to write his name in big burning letters on her soul and never, ever let her go.

It was not at all human, it did not feel remotely human, this mad raging need to possess completely, but Sarah loved it so well she could not force herself to care.

He leaned over her, his eyes wide and utterly black, wild and raw and loving her. He kissed her as he moved inside her, hot, breathless brushes of his lips. It was just that side of too much, and Sarah made a rough, sobbing sound as her heart contracted viciously, and a searing white flare of joy burned up from her abdomen.

"Yes," he urged her thickly, his motions rougher, more desperate. Sarah tensed underneath him, her hands clawing at him as the sensation sharpened, building higher. He stroked her inside and out, again and again, giving her no respite. Sarah mewled against the soft press of his lips as the sensation spiked, burning through her, lighting her up from the inside out. She choked out his name as she came, her heart squeezing unbearably against her chest, as if she'd been mortally wounded.

Jareth reacted similarly to the sound of his name on her lips, shuddering and gasping as if she'd hurt him too badly for him to survive it. Then he thrust into her again with a strangled moan, clutching her to him desperately as he poured himself out inside her.

Jareth panted above her for a moment, leaning heavily over his arms, shaking slightly in reaction. Sarah tried to get her breath and actually felt her heart skip a beat or two, as if this was all just too much for it to handle. Jareth lowered his head and rested it between her breasts, his hair trailing over her, golden in the firelight.

"Sarah," he sighed softly, joyously, and kissed the skin over her heart with gentle care, as if he recognized the reason for his happiness lay beneath. Sarah slid her hand up over his shoulder, trailing her fingers lightly down his back. It was a warm, affectionate gesture, and Jareth sighed, relaxing against her as if reassured.

"This all right?" he asked languidly as he rested his weight against her, turning his head and laying his cheek just over her heart. The top of his head came to just under her chin, and Sarah realized with mild surprise that she was quite comfortable.

"Mmm," she said faintly, spreading her hand over the warmth of his back. He moved his head slightly, nuzzling the swell of her breast with a faint sound of total masculine contentment. Sarah let out a breath of lazy laughter. He might be more human that she'd thought.

Sarah dozed for a while, warm and deeply satisfied. The air was cool but between the fire, her cloak, and the warm, heavy weight of the Goblin King covering her, she couldn't have been more comfortable. She did not sleep very long, even though it had been a trying day. They would still need to get to the gates somehow, and time lost to sleep was still time lost. Sarah traced idle patterns on the sharply defined muscles of Jareth's back, gazing placidly into the fire. She knew she would need to get up soon, to wake him soon. She lingered in the moment while she could, savoring it.

She would not have liked to give odds on their chances. She hovered in a kind of fatalistic optimism, looking toward success but not really expecting it to be there when she arrived. She probably ought to be depressed or worried, but the emotion wouldn't come. Jareth was warm and solid against her and as far as her heart was concerned, all was right with the world.

He sighed, moving his head slightly, and Sarah realized he was awake. She paused in her gentle stroking of his back and he turned his head to look up into her face.

"Sarah, where is your necklace?" he asked, stroking his cheek gently over the bare, un-necklaced skin between her breasts. Sarah ran her fingers lightly through the wild tangle of his hair and he shut his eyes, shivering against her.

Hmm, he liked that...

"You don't remember?" she asked, her fingernails scratching delicately across his scalp. Just looking at his spiky mop of hair, she would have guessed it to be rather coarse and stiff. Product-heavy. But his hair was actually quite soft, feather soft and fine like wisps of silk.

"No," he said softly, sounding thoroughly distracted.

"I gave it back to you," Sarah said with a slight smile. "It seemed like you needed the energy."

Jareth got an interesting expression on his face. He was obviously concerned that she had given up her protection, and also, quite obviously gratified that she'd been willing to do it for him. It was sort of concerned and smug, and Sarah smothered a smile.

"How long have you gone without it?" he asked, lifting himself up off her a little to look her in the eye.

"About a day," Sarah said. Considerably longer than thirteen hours. He leaned forward, examining her eyes, then glanced down at her body underneath him, as if he might suddenly spot something bizarre about her that he'd somehow missed while having intimate contact with her. Sarah grinned at him.

"I'm fine," she insisted. He lifted an eyebrow. "Really," Sarah insisted.

"I'll make you another," Jareth said firmly. Sarah hesitated, and gave him a sheepish smile.

"You shouldn't do magic so close to the Road," she reminded him. Jareth gave her an odd look.

"Sarah, I have a crystal for that," he paused at the look on her face. "Don't I?" Jareth got a pained look on his face.

Sarah squirmed a little, underneath him.

"You needed the energy," Sarah said apologetically. Jareth sighed, shaking his head. He looked up at her with a certain amount of fond exasperation.

"You went through some trouble on my account," he said, and it wasn't a question. Sarah tilted her head, dismissing the idea with her expression. He'd have done the same. He did do the same, as a matter of fact.

Jareth's face was serious.

"I appreciate it," he said soberly, the fire glittering in his eyes. Sarah gave him a rather flirtatious smile.

"I noticed that," she said lightly, reaching out to brush his hair back out of his eyes. He caught her hand, and pressed the inside of her wrist to his mouth. She might have expected a kiss. Instead his tongue just barely flicked out between his lips and brushed her skin, as if tasting her pulse. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture, strange but at the same time very touching.

Then Jareth tensed, pushing himself up, looking out at the darkness beyond the reach of the fire.

"I don't believe it," he said faintly, his eyes widening. Sarah propped herself up on her elbows, twisted around to look.

"No way," she sputtered.

There, striding into the circle of light and looking rather proud of himself, was Bim.

* * *

_Author's Note- yes I went M, shame, shame. Sarah's quoting Romeo and Juliet this time. Free box of Bemony to my two hundredth reviewer..._

_Lixxle- well, it's actually (Tiny Jareth strolls by in his bordello jumpsuit)...what? uh, what were we talking about?  
_

_bruwench and Helena Darjeeling- erm, yes. Thoroughly._

_Natsuko- (Skeep strolls by in his tiara after Tiny Jareth, his entire face streaked in glittery purple and gold) That may not have been the best idea..._

_FaeriesMidwife- (offers chicken soup) please don't be dead, you'll have missed all the smut.  
_


	17. Chapter 17

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 12- FUBAR

CH 17

"Bim, you coward," Sarah scolded while Jareth was occupied squirming into his attractive pants. She yanked her white shirt over her head and glared at the offending equine. Bim looked unimpressed.

"The lady has a point," Jareth said casually, fixing his horse with a stern look. He walked over and lifted the horse's head, looking him in the eye, more or less. "You've disgraced yourself in front of her." He said it as if it was the most heinous crime imaginable, and Sarah's heart warmed disgracefully, flattered.

Her heart was such an appalling pushover.

Bim snorted. Then, looking pleased as punch at all the attention he was getting, he shook his head and nudged at his master adoringly.

Jareth turned to her, looking sharp and disapproving and obviously enjoying himself quite a bit.

"He seems to feel the fact that he returned should bear some weight in our judgment." He glanced around significantly. "I don't seem to see Windle around anywhere."

Sarah smirked.

"He probably saw a passing goblin eating an apple and followed him to the ends of the earth," she said, yanking on her boots. Jareth patted Bim on the side of the neck, looking quietly pleased. Sarah smothered a smile. "Bim came back because he likes you."

"My friend, then, hmm?" Jareth said softly to the equine, looking as though it was an unfamiliar idea he quite liked. "I suppose," he said, moving to strap his spear to Bim's side, "since you have shown your loyalty, I will pardon you."

His motion jostled the saddlebags, and Sarah noticed several tendrils of Bemony curling rather smugly over the edges. She scowled darkly.

"I don't know if I'd go that far," she muttered. Jareth looked amused, glancing from her to the bag. Then he reached inside it, rustling around for a moment, and brought out a piece of fruit. Sarah's face lit up.

"Are you sure about that?" Jareth asked slyly, and tossed it to her. Sarah plucked it from the air easily and paused, startled. It was a peach. She lifted an eyebrow. Jareth had pulled out one for himself, but hadn't bitten into it yet. He was watching her with an unusual look on his face. Almost...anticipation.

"It's a bit late for this, don't you think?" Sarah asked him, and took a bite. It was sweet.

That expression was there again on his face. Total triumph. He looked far too pleased with himself. Sarah lifted both her eyebrows and gave him a challenging look. Deliberately, she licked juice from her lips.

Jareth's eyes flashed. He took two long strides toward her and swept her up into an electric, intense kiss. He got a good, thorough taste of the peach in her mouth, and when he finally pulled back, they both stared at each other for a moment in tense, hormone-saturated silence.

Sarah spoke first.

"We have a long way to go," she said finally, sounding reluctant to her own ears. Jareth leaned close and inhaled deeply, as if enjoying her scent.

"Yes," he said faintly, rubbing lightly at her shoulders, and then more firmly, "yes." He took a step back from her with a sigh.

Bim was fairly huge as far as horses went, and he didn't seem to find it too much of a hardship to carry them both. Sarah sat behind Jareth, and the Goblin King seemed to rather enjoy her arms around his waist.

The trees thinned out and they walked straight though the night, unmolested. Jareth was effusive as the sun rose. Sarah would not have guessed by looking at him that they were less than twenty-four hours away from the culmination of a suicidally dangerous quest. He even sang a little, though it wasn't 'tirra lirra'. Sarah caught Bim looking back at them once or twice as if the horse couldn't fathom what had come over his master.

Sarah stretched and planted a delicate kiss just behind Jareth's right ear and he stiffened, stumbling over the words. She grinned to herself, pleased at this new effect she was having on him.

Around sunset, she saw the other side of it. Bim, who was getting tired, abruptly sensed something was amiss and shied, dancing on his feet unhappily. Sarah, who had been fighting the nearly irresistible urge to doze off for the last hour, was caught off guard and half asleep. She half slid off the back of Bim with a startled curse just as two of the milky white beasts shot out of the undergrowth, surprised out of their hiding place.

Sarah was legitimately concerned about getting trampled by the agitated horse should she let go, and clung with adrenaline saturated strength to Bim's saddle, trying to tuck her legs up out of the way of stray hooves. Jareth leaped off Bim's back with a snarl, landing several feet away on top of one of the creatures.

Now would be a fine time for Bim to decide to run off, Sarah thought, clinging for her life and her hands regrettably absent of reins.

The next time she agreed to something like this she was going to put 'no horses' in there as part of the bargain. She'd ride a camel or an ostrich or something. Maybe a nice llama. Nobody ever got trampled to death by a llama...

Jareth was occupied with the one monster, and the other decided to try and take a bite out of her. Bim jumped, and Sarah practically got her face crammed in a saddlebag full of Bemony.

"Make yourself useful," she snarled irrationally at the plant, tearing out a handful and flinging it in the face of the attacking creature. It shrieked and fell away, the plant exploding into life and entwining around the creature tightly. She flailed with her left foot and finally caught it in the stirrup, pushing herself up into the saddle. Sarah grabbed for the reins of the unhappy animal, pulling his head back impatiently. She turned her head to see Jareth pounding the hell out of the creature Sarah had incapacitated.

Sarah watched this for a few moments with her mouth open before speaking.

"Jareth, I think it's dead," she called. "Jareth!" she said sharply, when he didn't respond. He visibly forced himself to stop, looking up at her with a deadly expression on his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked, as if he would do terrible things to someone if she wasn't.

"Fine," Sarah said faintly. His eyes moved to include Bim, and darkened dangerously, as if displeased by his animal's performance. Sarah was suddenly a little nervous on his behalf. She narrowed her eyes.

Overprotective, much?

"I'm fine," she said, much more firmly, and Jareth seemed to recognize that she was displeased and possibly a little creeped out by his attitude. They were going to be fighting tomorrow, really fighting, and Jareth would have to deal with the reality of her in mortal danger. Without taking his eyes from the prize, so to speak. He hopped up in front of her, looking slightly embarrassed. He didn't see the troubled frown she aimed at his back.

She was going to have to watch out for that kind of thing from him. Tomorrow he wouldn't have the luxury of being heroic where she was concerned.

As the night went on the weather grew worse. The clouds blotted out the moon and the stars, and it got so dark Jareth slid off Bim's back at one point and began to lead him through a treacherous bit of landscape. Sarah supposed owl eyes didn't miss much in the darkness.

They crested what felt like a hill and Jareth stopped them with a sharp inhalation of surprise.

"Can you see it?" he asked her. Sarah snorted. It was so dark it felt like someone had slipped a blindfold over her head. The darkness was so complete it seemed to press at her eyes.

"I can't see anything," she said definitively.

"I'd forgotten," he said, as if talking to himself, "how big..."

"What is it?" she prodded, when he didn't continue.

"We're here," he said quietly. Sarah tightened her grip on Bim's saddle and said nothing. She got down off of Bim's back so he could cool down as they walked, and Jareth looped an arm through hers, keeping her close and leading her though the darkness. The wind had picked up, hissing through the trees over their heads. It was an eerie sound, made more so by the fact that Sarah was essentially blind. They camped shortly thereafter.

As she was setting herself down for a few hours of uneasy sleep, she heard the first rumble of thunder, and her heart sank.

"If it rains-" she began forlornly. The goblins wouldn't be able to offer them that crucial distraction. Wet grass didn't burn well.

"It won't," Jareth said decisively. He did not lay down beside her, which confused and disappointed her, but sat close, within arms reach and (presumably) looking out at the darkness and watching for trouble.

"You don't know that," Sarah replied frankly. Jareth's hand came down on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

"It won't rain," he said with iron assurance, as if he could stop it from force of will alone. Sarah thought suddenly about how he had looked the first night she had been there, the night he'd gone down to re-contain the portal. She thought about him, marshaling his forces as lightning and thunder fought overhead. Perhaps he could at that...but for how big an area, and for how long?

She woke abruptly around sunrise to a crack of thunder so loud that it sounded like the world was ending. She sat bolt upright, blinking into a dawn that was much darker than it should've been. She cursed internally to see the thick cloud cover. It would have been so much easier to attack in sunlight. The storm looked like it had stalled over their heads, ominous black clouds hanging over them, but as Jareth had promised, it hadn't rained.

Jareth was looking up with a kind of focused attention that pushed away any doubt he was at least partially responsible for the hold in the weather. She didn't think he'd slept at all.

"Jareth?" she said tentatively. He almost looked like he was in some kind of trance or something. There was energy crackling around him that couldn't be seen, but could definitely be felt. Her skin was crawling like it was trying to escape, and he wasn't even all that close to her.

Sarah stood up when she got no response, reaching down to grab her cloak and shake it out. It was just too cold to do without. She walked in front of him, all the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention. Jareth gave no sign that he could see her. He was looking at something she couldn't see, and it had his complete attention for the moment.

She turned to look in the general direction he was staring, not expecting to see anything unusual at all, and froze, startled. She took several steps forward, squinting.

It looked like...

Sarah darted up the side of the hill and stopped dead on the crest of it, her mouth open, neck craning. It was a...her mind wanted to call it a wall, but it couldn't be. It was far too massive. It was a mountain, a sheer cliff rising straight up from gentle rolling hills into the dark storm clouds overhead. The face of it stretched along as far as the eye could see in either direction. It couldn't be a wall. No wall had ever been built on such a scale as that.

Though it was exactly the same color as the pale yellow-gold stones of Jareth's labyrinth, but surely that was a coincidence.

"The boundary of my kingdom," Jareth said from behind her, and she jumped. Sarah turned and glared at him. He looked amused by her reaction to him, and she had no doubt he'd snuck up on her on purpose.

"That is not funny," she informed him, and he smiled at her unrepentantly, looking wild and untamed under the dark, stormy skies. "What do you mean, boundary? Is there someone else's kingdom on the other side of the mountain?"

"Mountain," Jareth scoffed. He came up close behind her, pointing over her shoulder at the vertical face of yellow stone. She shivered a little at his proximity. "That is the outer wall of my labyrinth."

"Of your..." Sarah's mind sputtered, stalling. "Your labyrinth is thirteen days that way," she said, jerking her head back at the way they had come. Jareth smiled at her, looking sharp and inhuman.

There was something funny about the way he was looking at her this morning, almost like he was savoring the sight of her. As if he was enjoying it while he could. She would wonder, later, about that look.

"My kingdom is my labyrinth, Sarah," he said. "All that you have seen lies within its boundaries. The portion of it you traversed as a child was the living heart of it. The inner labyrinth differs from the rest. It lives, it changes."

"It binds you," Sarah said faintly. Jareth's face darkened, and for a moment he said nothing.

"Yes." His voice was rough when he finally spoke. "That," he said, quickly changing the subject, gesturing at the pale golden stone, "is the wall that marks the outer labyrinth's boundary."

The wind caught his cloak, sent it billowing behind him majestically.

"Like a shell on a conch," Sarah mused. A crooked little world, Marcus had called it. He'd been right. This place was even stranger than she'd thought.

"But," Sarah began with a jolt of sudden insight, "no one starting here could ever get through the labyrinth in only thirteen hours."

Jareth smirked.

"Really? How unfair of me."

Sarah gaped at him for a moment, and then desperately smothered a laugh. He was teasing her, of all things. She gave him a sincerely fond look that seemed to please him a great deal.

"That means you started me in the middle...well, almost at the end, really." She stopped and eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

Sarah admitted to herself that maybe some part of her was fishing for some kind of declaration of undying devotion. She didn't get it.

"You said please," he said with a faint, crooked smile. Sarah blinked at him.

"I'm sorry?" she said, genuinely thrown for a loop. Jareth walked around her until his back was facing the wall of his labyrinth.

"You asked for your brother back. You said please. You'd be surprised how many people don't," he said with dry amusement. Sarah cocked her head at him.

"And for that, you helped me?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Jareth looked nonchalantly over her shoulder. Sarah didn't buy it for a minute.

"I've found it's always good to encourage the proper respect," he said casually.

"Oh, yes, well, a man in your position..." Sarah said with total lack of respect, and Jareth gave her a stern look.

"I am not a man," he said smoothly. She knew he meant it to mean that he wasn't human, but she chose to take it wrong. She folded her arms and looked him up and down. Lingering on the down.

"Could have fooled me," she said mischievously. Jareth, however, did not share her mood, and looked down at her with worried eyes.

"You won't be a girl for much longer, if you stay here," he said, startling her badly. He lifted her hand as if to look at it, turned it over as if examining the inside of her wrist. He wasn't going to say it now, was he? Ruin it now...

Oh, don't ask me to stay, she thought forlornly, don't you see, if you never ask me to stay then I might just forget to leave...

"You're starting to change already," he said softly, looking bleak. Sarah looked quickly down at her wrist, surprised. Now that she was looking, her skin did seem to be a little paler, a little more luminous. It might have been the light, but it wasn't. Sarah looked up at him, appalled, but he wasn't looking at her any more. He'd stopped dead, staring off at the clouds.

Sarah turned her head. There was black smoke on the horizon.

"The signal," Jareth said, sounding grim. He looked her in the eye. "We haven't much time."

They ran back to Bim, and Jareth quickly removed everything from him but the saddle and bridle. Sarah, after a moments hesitation, even left her pack. There wasn't anything she had with her that would help them, anyway. Her hand touched briefly at the knife on her belt as she watched Jareth lift his spear. He turned to her with sober yes.

"I want you to stay on Bim, no matter what happens," he said. Sarah gave him an incredulous look.

"Jareth, he'll bolt as soon as the fighting starts, we went over this-"

"If you keep hold of his reins, you can control him, and he can protect you," Jareth cut in, but Sarah had caught a glimpse of something cross his face and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"You want Bim to run away, to carry me off and leave you to fight alone," she said incredulously.

Jareth said nothing.

"And I can't fight from his back with this," she gestured at her knife. She could not hope to reach anything with it from Bim's back, much less kill anything.

Silently, Jareth handed his spear to her. She took it more out of surprise than anything else.

"But what about you?" she said, sounding small and uncertain to her own ears. Jareth smiled, suddenly looking rather tired and sad.

"If you will lend me your knife, I imagine I can hold my own until we are close enough that it no longer matters if I alert them by using magic," Jareth said, holding out his empty hand. Eyes narrowed, she filled it with her knife.

"If Bim runs, I'll jump off, even if it breaks my neck," Sarah swore. Jareth held out a hand to help her up onto Bim's back without comment. When she was seated, she realized he hadn't let go of her. She was leaning over, looking down at him, past their entwined fingers.

Jareth stepped close and put her hand on his chest.

"This," he said quietly, "is yours."

Sarah's hand was resting lightly over his heart, and there was little chance of misunderstanding exactly what he meant by it. Sarah's mouth dropped open a fraction. He looked...soft, and desperately sincere.

"It goes where you go," he said with a faint, almost self-conscious smile. "Anywhere you go," he added with delicate emphasis, and Sarah's eyes started to prick a little. His heart thumped underneath her fingers. It was hers.

Anywhere. _Anything._

He could not have plucked a better thing to say to her from the gates of heaven. It was only everything she'd wanted to hear, for as long as she'd been listening and hoping to find someone who could understand her.

"Jareth-" she managed, her voice thick with a lot of years of only ever hearing the wrong thing from people who claimed to love her, but would never understand how to make her happy. He pushed himself up and stole a kiss from her, brief and burning with emotions that neither of them had any time right then to express properly.

"Remember that," Jareth breathed into her lips, and then pulled away, heading for the Road at a quick jog. Sarah blinked furiously, cramming a lid back down on some serious emotional turmoil, and urged Bim on after him. They had things to do now, but later...

Later. She was going to show him exactly how much those few words had meant to her.

They moved silently through the dead landscape of the Black Road, the wall a few hundred yards away on their right. They walked past twisted dead trees and tread on withered grasses. The wall stayed more or less the same, perhaps seeming a bit dingier that it had been. Jareth had killed several of the small spiky black beasts shortly after they'd entered, but other than that, the place seemed deserted.

"It's so quiet," Sarah said softly.

"My goblins have done their part well," Jareth responded.

They crested a small hill and Sarah pulled Bim to a halt, her heart squeezing into a small terrified ball in her chest. A gate, she'd called it. It sounded so pedestrian. We'll just trot off and shut the gate. What they were facing was larger and more terrible than anything she could have imagined. It blackened the wall up until the view was cut off by the storm clouds overhead. It cut a hole into the earth before it large enough to drop in a building. It wasn't black; That was the most terrible part. There were colors in it, shifting like quicksilver over the surface but they weren't any colors she could name, they weren't colors the human eye should have been capable of seeing, and all of a sudden Sarah felt like she was going to be sick.

"Don't...look," Jareth breathed, sounding more distressed than she was. Sarah shut her eyes for a moment, and then forced herself to look at the landscape, at the path they would have to take to get where they were going.

It was disturbingly serene. A few gentle rolling hills dotted evenly with the blackened remains of trees. Something about the trees nagged at her mind.

"Shadows," she realized with a chill.

Jareth looked up at her, looking washed out and ill. Above them, thunder rumbled aggressively. The clouds were thick. It was dark, gloomy, almost like twilight. But somehow, underneath the trees were sharply defined shadows, as if they were standing beneath clear skies on a bright sunny day.

"Look at the shadows, under the trees," she breathed, uneasy. Her hand was sweating where she was gripping his spear.

"Clever," Jareth said softly, sounding angry. "This way." He started to pick his way through, carefully treading a path that kept them clear of the sharply defined edges of the shadows. Sarah watched them as they moved among them, and saw with a chill that the shadows were undulating gently, independently of the trees they were underneath.

Lightning cracked above their heads and cast the area into sharp clarity, a camera flash of black and white. Sarah saw, for a brief instant, something inside the shadows, something with tentacles-

There was a flash of movement, just at the edge of her vision, and she turned sharply in the saddle, lifting Jareth's spear like swift death.

Sarah dropped the reins, and her eyes got round.

"Oh," she gasped.

They were fucked.

Creeping up behind them like a silent wave of death were...hundreds. Hundreds of creatures. They were crawling over rocks and slithering through the trees. Utterly silent, a horde of beasts crept in on them with gleaming white eyes and sharp teeth. So many had gathered it was almost funny to see them there, undetected.

Jareth turned, seeing this, and hissed in a slow breath through his teeth.

Then he leaned back and hit Bim on the rump as hard as he could.

"Yah!" he bellowed, and Bim bolted like a frightened jackrabbit.

"_What?_" Sarah cried, "No!" The horde of creatures descended with a mass of terrible cries, and Bim ran like every last one of them was after him.

Reins, she'd dropped the reins, idiot, idiot!

"Bastard, you," she gasped, fumbling for Bim's reins, "Tricked me, I don't believe-" she got hold of the strip of leather and pulled his head back as hard as she could. Bim had taken off back the way they had come, and there were quite a few beasts hot on their tail but Sarah was so angry she didn't care. Bim took a flying leap over a cluster of those black spiky beasts, not caring a bit about the maniac on his back telling him to stop and get eaten.

Sarah snarled like a mad thing, tears streaming freely down her face, and pulled his head hard to the right, trying to get him to turn at least.

Behind them there was a flash of blue light, and a sound like a sonic boom. Jareth had taken the magical gloves off. That dirty, lying sack of...

Most of the creatures in pursuit of her and Bim broke off and headed for the magical fallout like hounds on the hunt. Bim, whether by training or accident, eased to the right.

She'd been correct, earlier. If she jumped off Bim's back at this speed she'd probably break her neck. Sarah stood up in the stirrups, her eyes trained on her goal. There was a tree branch coming up, if she could grab it...

Bim galloped underneath it at full speed, and at just the right moment, Sarah dropped Jareth's spear to the ground and jumped for the branch. Her body swung out in front of her like she was on the playground, trying to get the swing to go all the way around the bar, and the bark bit sharply into her hands before her full weight and all her momentum tugged at her fingers and she lost her grip, flung into the air like a rag doll.

She hit the ground flat on her back, and whacked her head hard. She lay there, gasping and insensible for a moment before she got enough presence of mind to moan and clutch at her head. She forced herself up onto her knees.

"Kill him," she gasped, the change in position sending a sharp stab of agony through her skull. "I'll..." One of those black porcupine things chose that moment to leap out of the withered remains of a bush and lunge for her throat.

Startled, she punched it in the face. It was more out of habit than anything else, but she no longer had Jareth's dreamstuff to help her, and after a stunned moment it was on her again, snarling. Sarah scrambled in the dirt with one hand, feverishly hunting for Jareth's spear while the other pushed its face up by the muzzle, keeping it from biting her. Her hand hit a rock before she found the spear and she snatched it up and bashed the beast in the head with it, over and over, black blood spraying across her face. Her head started to pound along with her racing heartbeat.

When it was dead, she spotted the spear by its faint glow and stumbled over to it, trying not to breathe too much and aggravate her headache. She was bleeding, all down the back of her neck, she could feel it, but she was extremely reluctant to touch it.

She nearly killed herself again on the way back when the spear tip got caught on bone inside something she'd just killed. She couldn't pull it out of the carcass of the creature in time to stop another creature from trying to kill her.

Hell, it had worked before...she spat the Bemony she was chewing at the attacking beast, planted her foot on the carcass of the creature she'd stabbed and yanked the spear out. Then she let slip a strangled cry at what the strain of pulling had done to her head.

She reeled, gritting her teeth and holding her head in her hand as if her skull was in danger of sliding apart. It felt like someone was drilling a hole in the back of her head. Taking a steadying, shallow breath, Sarah changed her grip on the spear. When the next beast came at her she swung it like a baseball bat...at least she wouldn't get it stuck that way.

One foot in front of the other, she told herself, moving back the way she had come, headed toward the fancy light show. There were bright flashes and small explosions-Jareth was going all out. Then, the ground shook under her feet, and the landscape in front of her burst into flame. Creatures shrieked as a spreading ball of flame ate at the landscape, and Sarah threw herself to the ground and covered her head. She felt the heat on the backs of her hands and thought, wildly, that he'd done it.

He'd dropped his special crystal into the gate. It was done-

Then, she heard a terrible sound. It called to mind the scream of rage she had heard when Jareth had bound the portal in his labyrinth from spreading, but this was much worse. This was bigger. It was rage and hate and horrible, horrible triumph...

It hadn't been enough, Sarah thought with a cold dread as the sound swelled in the air. Jareth had dropped his crystal and it hadn't been enough...she could feel the sound like it was tearing strips off her soul but she forced herself to her feet, and against all rationality startled to run.

Her head exploded in disapproval of this and she stumbled for a moment, actually blinded by the pain, but she blinked hard and pushed on. She had to get to him, she had to see him...there were creatures ahead of her and behind her, all headed in that direction. She crested a hill and saw them swarming over the burnt landscape toward a single, brightly glowing individual. She climbed up a tree on the crest of the hill, blood soaking her back, she just wanted to...to see him...one last...

Behind Jareth, Sarah saw the gate open up, and her mind dropped out from under her in horror. He was distracted, and behind him, tendrils burst forth from the maw of the gate, rippling in terrible, impossible rainbows of color, reaching for him.

"Jareth!" she howled in despair, pointing.

He looked at her. She hadn't really expected him to hear her but...he looked at her, and she saw from the expression on his face just how much he'd been counting on her, at least, to survive this. Sarah heard beasts scrambling up the tree after her, but didn't spare them a glance. For one moment she and Jareth shared eye contact over a battlefield.

You idiot, she thought. I said I'd jump, didn't I?

Jareth did not look at the reaching tentacles that were moving to grab him and drag him into hell. He looked at her, and threw her a crystal. It did not float, as his crystals were wont to do. Jareth's crystal shot straight to her heart like a flaming arrow, and cracked the world like a mirror around her.

The last thing she saw was the unknowing determination in his eyes as that iridescent hand rose up behind his head like a terrible mockery of a halo.

"Your best is done," she heard his voice whisper in her ear like a caress, as if he was only standing just behind her.

_No..._

Then she stumbled back, and sat down hard on her rear end, stunned.

She was sitting on the dock in a little flouncy white dress. The ocean made soothing sounds where it lapped at the shore. In front of her, where Marcus' boat had been, was empty water. Marcus had taken off. Behind her were the soft sounds of a wonderful party winding down. A breath of salt wind brought her a hint of music in the air. There was a man strolling along the beach in her direction.

Sarah lifted a shaking hand to the back of her head and found it completely unharmed. It didn't hurt. It was like none of it had even happened. She pulled her hand away and looked at it in numb disbelief.

Then she bowed her head and cried as if the world was ending.

* * *

_Authors Note: The End_

_-agitated snarling sounds_-(Both Skeep and Tiny Jareth jump out, brandishing weapons in an extremely threatening manner)

_I mean...there's another chapter!_ (Skeep lowers his fork, adjusting his wig and looking pleased. Tiny Jareth growls faintly, not buying it)

_Another chapter and an epilogue?_ (satisfied, Tiny Jareth stands down)

_-whew-_

_Also, the free box of Bemony has gone out to WhiteInfinity21, Tiny Jareth magicked it over for me...erm, you should really check on it, I think it's eaten most of your backyard already...and a free prize to anyone who can guess what happens in the next chapter __(I've left clues). __The prize will be something a bit less...active...than a box of Bemony.  
_

_bruwench- sexual healing, of course (cue music). _

_Lixxle- poor Windle never had a chance...-sob-_


	18. Chapter 18

The Lady and the Knight

The Black Road: Day 13-Grief and Wonder

CH18

He'd planned it.

The words he'd said, the look he had given her that last day, they all flashed through her mind, all pointing to one inescapable conclusion. He hadn't planned to keep her there, he'd never planned to keep her...

_'You won't be trapped there, as I was.'_

_'I wouldn't have the heart to tame her...'_

_'It goes where you go. Anywhere you go. Remember that.'_

Jesus, he'd been saying goodbye to her, and she'd been too thick to see it...

Now he was dead.

The thought shocked her enough to still her tears. He was dead. Time moved so much faster there, it had only been a scarce handful of minutes for her but for him...hours. He was already dead, surely. He'd been dying there alone while she'd been sitting on the dock. That thought was the last one she was capable of for a long time. It was like the hurt in her heart was this yawning abyss, swallowing any thought save misery.

She did not know when she gained a companion, but after some immeasurable amount of incoherent agony it came to her that someone was offering her a handkerchief. She focused on it for a befuddled moment, before allowing whoever it was to push the fine white cloth into her unresisting fingers. She held it in her hand as if she didn't know what to do with it, and then looked up.

Marib was crouched down beside her, looking deeply uncomfortable.

"Hello, sad human girl," he said, brushing the sand off the dock before sitting down. He'd rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his collar. Sarah made a noise somewhere between hysteria and misery, and wisely shut her mouth lest anything else even more disturbing escape her.

Marib looked at the empty spot by the dock that had once held Marcus' ship.

"Your friend Marcus gave me something to give to you," he said, not looking at her, "but now I think I will not do it."

Sarah looked at him blankly. He was saying words to her in English but it was like she couldn't manage to shove them together correctly to wring the meaning from them. His words bounced off her and fell gently to the ground, and she stared at them with careful concentration. If she did this, perhaps she could keep herself from thinking, from feeling...

Sarah shut her eyes tightly, making a soft sound of anguish.

"If you were another girl, I would give you flowers and jewels to stop your tears," Marib said quietly, "but I think this would mean more to you than any jewel I could find."

He held something out to her. It wasn't a handkerchief. Or jewels. It was a feather. She opened her eyes wide.

"You dropped this, when you were on the dance floor with your...friend," Marib said gently. She reached out and took it from him with shaking fingers. It was the feather Jareth had left for her, when she'd first set eyes on him in the tent...two weeks ago. She looked back at the party. There was a hint of dawn on the horizon. Two weeks or about six hours... She held it gently, as if it was the most valuable thing in the world. She blinked hot tears down her cheeks as she stroked it lightly with a fingertip.

It was so strange...holding it in her hand; It almost felt like he was standing right behind her. Like that last whisper of his voice in her ear...she shut her eyes and brought the feather gently to her lips, pressing a kiss upon it. Somewhere inside she felt the faintest hint of warmth, as if she had a strong hand at her back.

When she looked up at Marib her eyes were teary but clear and self-possessed.

"Thank you," she said, and meant it with her whole heart. Marib did not smile, but he did look rather relieved. He nodded at her silently, and when he moved his head, she caught a glimmer of gold at his throat.

The sight snagged at her memory, and she looked up at Marib's face. His skin was almost black, and his eyes flickered with otherworldly fire, casting shadows on his face. For a dizzying moment, those eyes seemed to swell in her sight, and what Sarah could see in them was a rising excitement.

His face was a mask of restrained encouragement. Put it together, his face seemed to say. You've nearly got it, put it together...

"What is that, at your throat?" Sarah said in a strange, strangled tone of voice. A necklace...or a collar? His eyes flickering with triumph, Marib leaned over and bared his throat for her. At his neck was a thick gold collar, exquisitely crafted with beautiful scroll work. There were words written upon it, but there were no seams. This was a collar not meant to come off. The words were not in English, but Sarah recognized them. They were in Arabic, from the Koran. Sarah couldn't read Arabic, but she knew what it meant because she'd asked the last time she'd seen something like this.

The words meant 'Prostrate yourself unto Adam'.

She looked up at Marib with terrible comprehension. He was a Jinn. An Ifrit, by the looks of him. A bound Jinn.

"I seem to be making a habit of meeting enslaved people I can't free," Sarah said softly, sadly. Contrary to popular belief and Disney movies, a bound Jinn could never be freed. Not without killing the Jinn. Sarah imagined that little detail might have made Aladdin a bit of a bummer for the kiddies.

Marib looked at her placidly.

"Do not worry, sad girl. I am content enough. My master has been very kind to me." He took a deep breath and stretched like a cat. "I am free to roam from her side, and she has given me gifts for all my good service."

Sarah felt a wild hope rise fully formed in her heart. It would be so unlikely...a person lucky enough to come into possession of a bound Jinn was apt to keep it most of their life before using up the wishes they were granted. But why else would he care so much...why else would he be looking at her like that?

"What..." Sarah had to clear her throat. "What gifts?"

The flickering fires in Marib's eyes burned in bright triumph at her words, and Sarah's heart gave a little jump. A bound Jinn was subject to a lot of rules and restrictions. They really were slaves, to an extent. A bound Jinn was usually confined to a lamp or other container, when not doing work for his master. A bound Jinn could not confess his nature openly. A bound Jinn could not give information unless asked the right questions.

A bound Jinn could be a real pain in the ass, to be honest. They did not, as a rule, always give you what you actually wished for. A Jinn was just as likely to give you what you really wanted in the deepest recesses of your heart (which could be embarrassing at best and dangerous at worst). An evil Jinn, a Shaitan, would twist the nicest wish you could think of into the worst hell anyone ever brought down upon themselves. They didn't usually wear name tags to let people know which ones were evil. The mistake was usually fatal; A Shaitan could turn 'have a nice day' into an explosion involving busloads of Buddhist monks and a railroad car full of puppies with a flick of his wrist.

Marib did not look like he was likely to do this, but still...

"My master is a wise woman. She has set a charm that I may see who my next master might be, so that I can always make sure the master that finds me is a good one," Marib said pleasantly, and waited.

He was obviously waiting. He was practically chomping at the bit. Ask me where my master is, his face pleaded. If she did not, he would be unable to tell her, no matter how much he wanted to. Rules and restrictions.

There were, of course, certain perks. A bound Jinn was orders of magnitude more powerful than a free one. It was the difference between setting alight a pinch of gunpowder on the sidewalk, and cramming that gunpowder into a bullet, and putting that bullet into a gun, and firing it. The Jinn, like the gunpowder, gained a great amount of power and velocity from the restrictions placed upon it.

"Where is your master?" Sarah asked, her mouth suddenly dry. She couldn't possibly be so lucky.

_Please, let me be lucky..._

Marib beamed at her.

"My master has used her wishes, and has sent me to find my new master," Marib looked at her contentedly. The longer he stared at her the wider Sarah's eyes got. Marib smiled slightly. "I looked for you Sarah Williams, all night, but you had gone far away from here," He looked rather proud of himself. "I knew you would return."

Marcus had told her, he'd been asking for her by name...

'What, did he take you off on his flying carpet?' Marcus had laughed about it. He'd known. He'd known what Marib was...

Sarah clenched her hands into two tight fists to keep herself from fainting dead away.

"Take me to your master," she said.

"She is not far," Marib said, getting to his feet and offering her a hand up. "But I should give you the message from your friend before I do," he said, and paused. "It is not good news, I think."

Sarah tried to think back, he had said something to her about Marcus, she hadn't really been capable of paying attention...

She held out her hand, hope stiffening her spine.

"Let me see," she said. He handed her a piece of paper. It was her postcard to Toby, she realized with a faint trickle of surprise. Well, not the whole thing, he'd kept the part with Toby's address...

Sarah was sitting on the dock again, somehow. She didn't have any memory of losing her feet. One moment standing, the next sitting down with her heart in her throat.

He wouldn't...surely he wouldn't...

"He wouldn't," Sarah said softly, and made herself believe it. He was trying to scare her. It was just a nasty trick.

"I did not think it would be good to give it to you, earlier," Marib said apologetically, offering her a hand again. Sarah took a deep breath and nodded once, standing on her own.

"That was...that was right, Marib. That was the right thing to do." She didn't think she would have been able to handle it, in the state she'd been in. She might have cracked like an overripe melon, too many bad things coming at her all at once.

Marib led her back into the trees, to a raised pavilion set with tables. There was an old woman in a gray dress watching them with curious eyes as they approached, and it was to her Marib brought Sarah.

The woman was old but not frail. She sat very straight and when she folded her hands on the table, she showed hands that still had a lot of strength in them. Her eyes were bright blue and had not faded with age at all. She didn't smile at either of them, but gestured them both to sit.

"Well now, let's get a look at you," she said without preamble, gesturing Sarah closer with a finger. Sarah was a bit surprised, but complied, leaning over the table. The woman looked closely at her eyes.

"Not too bad a job, Marib. She should do nicely," the woman pronounced after a moment. Sarah sat back, frowning.

"Excuse me? Who are you?" she asked, a bit irritated.

The stern woman looked at her with knowing eyes.

"I am the woman who bound this Jinn, and I am the woman who will give you the means to make your dreams come true," she said with a slight smile. She did not look like a woman who smiled often. She looked like a woman who had a large number of floppy unattractive hats and a dozen ill tempered cats. Sarah would guess there was probably a lot of floral patterned furniture involved as well. But if she'd been the one to do the binding, she had to be powerful and good at what she did.

So Sarah thought of Jareth, of the precise color of his mismatched eyes, and kept her mouth politely shut. The woman nodded briskly, as if she approved, and pulled out a small metal cylinder with a tightly fitted lid.

"When you've gotten what you're after, Marib will know where he needs to go to find his next keeper." She pointed her finger right in Sarah's face. "You take the Jinn, you take the responsibility for that, you hear?"

Sarah thought of the small, crooked smile Jareth wore when he was being infuriating, and nodded politely.

"Yes, ma'am."

The woman looked at her with keen eyes.

"You know what you want, don't you. That makes it easier," She said. "It can be a little...intense at first. It helps if you have what you want ready in the front of your mind for the first wish." The woman looked her over again, seeming satisfied by whatever she found. "You'll get used to it. Just don't let it go to your head."

Sarah looked at her with determination, her heart singing away in her chest. She could do this. She could save him.

"Ready?" the woman asked her, and Sarah nodded, taking a deep breath. The woman held out the little metal cylinder, and dropped it into Sarah's waiting hand.

Sarah hissed in a sharp breath, her eyes going wide.

"Easy," the older woman warned. Sarah nodded faintly, and looked over at Marib with her mouth hanging open. She could feel him, pushing at her thoughts, tugging at her desires...he was enormously powerful, it felt like the shadow he cast filled up the whole world. There was so much possibility, so much raw magic and it wanted to be used, it was begging to be used, all she would have to do is relax a little and it would sweep her up in her dreams, she wouldn't even have to say 'I wish'...

Sarah forced her hand open, narrowing her eyes, looking away from Marib at the container she was holding.

Focus on reality. Deep breaths. Don't Do Anything Stupid.

Sarah frowned suddenly, holding the cylinder up to the soft lighting. It had a little latch on the lid, and it was rough on the bottom. Strangely familiar, actually...Sarah lifted the latch, and looked inside, not really expecting to find anything.

She stared for a moment, then looked up at the woman.

"A tin for matches?" She said incredulously. There were four loose strike-anywhere matches inside.

"You bound a Jinn in a tin for matches?"

The woman frowned at her.

"Well, it was what I had," she said.

"But there's still matches inside," Sarah said incredulously.

"Yes, well, useful things, matches," the woman said carelessly. "You got your wish in your head straight? Marib's a good boy but he'll improvise if you ain't clear."

Sarah gaped at the woman for a moment.

"Yes..." she said vaguely, and then straightened sharply at the sound of her own voice. Marib was there in her head, tugging at her thoughts, probing for something to give her, to grant her, his master...

"Yes." Sarah said firmly, and started to smile. "Thank you. You have no idea how much-"

The woman waved her hand sharply.

"Now none of that! Next you'll be thinking what you could do to repay me, and there's your first wish lost," she scolded.

"Right," Sarah said, somewhat taken aback. "Well then. I wish-"

She never got to finish. Marib practically rushed into her head, sparkling with delight at the opportunity to please her. They vanished immediately from the party. This could be more difficult than she'd thought. She was just lucky that she'd been thinking about the time, and not just the place.

They spilled out into the labyrinth in the exact instant and approximate place she'd left it. She hadn't really wanted to be up the tree again. Marib stood at her back, huge and dark like a small mountain, as Sarah looked out over the battlefield. Her heart clenched in her chest at the sight of Jareth, and her first, terrible instinct was to save him.

But Marib was right there, and tugging at that desire like an exuberant dog on a leash. Sarah had likened a bound Jinn to a bullet. She just hadn't thought of what it would feel like to be the gun.

The tendrils of iridescence reached for Jareth, and in the second she had to think she focused on that desperately. That was it, she thought with a surge of raw hate. She turned her eyes to the gate. That was what she wanted.

She did not even say 'I wish', all she did was look at the portal, and relax a little. Yes, she said from somewhere deep inside, and Marib rumbled with joy at her back.

"Yes, master," he said, and the words shook the earth a little under her feet. He moved forward, swelling in size, and cracks formed in his black skin. Fissures of fire crisscrossed his hide. A wave of heat like a furnace blast hit her in the face, and as one, every single beast on the plain in front of them turned to look at the new force on the battlefield. The impossibly colored tendrils snapped back into the gate almost hastily, and Marib followed them in a billow of flame.

The Ifrit were sometimes called fire demons.

"Sarah!" Jareth shouted, looking shocked. The beasts that had been converging on him were now making a mad run for the gate itself, trying to get at Marib like white cells called to an infection. Jareth started to run to her, tossing bodies aside as he went, but they were both distracted by a massive explosion at the gate.

Sarah looked and saw Marib surging in size, stretching up to reach the clouds over their heads. The heat was incredible. He brought an arm the size of a Buick down and slashed at the face of the gate, actually cutting into it, the fire burning away at it like it was made of dry tinder.

The inhuman shriek of a dying monster was drowned out by the roar of a bound Jinn well pleased by the work he did for his master. Sarah could feel Marib building up, knew that he hadn't had the chance to stretch himself in ages, that he was actually enjoying this, and froze with a horrible thought.

She'd forgotten to remind him to make certain they were safe in the killing of the thing. A bubble of pure hysteria welled up to the surface of Sarah's thoughts.

He was really...ha, ha,...he was really building up now...

Sarah was standing on the crest of a hill. She looked down at Jareth with wide, panicked eyes.

"Get down!" she cried, and took a running leap down the hill just as the gate split wide open with an ear-shredding explosion. Sarah landed in the ravine just as a wall of flame passed over her head. She winced, covering her head. She rested that way for a heart-pounding moment, until she felt a hand on her arm.

Gunpowder and bullets, she thought in amazement, lifting her head to look at the blasted landscape.

"Bang," she said faintly, impressed. There wasn't much left. Then she turned and saw Jareth crouched over her, looking singed and exhausted and concerned and very, very alive. Her heart threw itself joyfully at him, and all she did was follow it.

Jareth grabbed for her with a relieved breath of laughter. She squeezed her arms around his neck and shut her eyes, torn between the urge to kiss him and the urge to strangle him.

"Oh, you unbelievable bastard," she said into his neck. He laughed again, totally unrepentant, and tightened his embrace of her as if he never intended to let her get away from him again. He rubbed his face against her skin like a cat. She pulled her head back, fully intending to kiss him senseless.

Jareth was looking up with a dangerous expression on his face, however, and Sarah turned to look as he moved to get in front of her. There wasn't anything alive within range of the fireball save the two of them, and Marib, who was looking quite proud of himself. Sarah looked behind her and saw one or two of the beasts running away at top speed, and couldn't blame them for being sensible.

"Who are you?" Jareth said cautiously to Marib, who had returned to his relatively small original size. The Goblin King did not sound particularly friendly, though Marib had obviously just saved them both. Sarah moved quickly to intercept.

"That's Marib," she said quickly. "A friend of mine." Marib looked positively overjoyed at her choice of adjectives. Jareth wasn't quite so effusive. Marib still had fine little fissures of fire crisscrossing his skin, and they made the golden collar he wore gleam brightly.

"Jinn," Jareth said, and it sounded like a curse. Marib frowned at him. Jareth glared at her as if she'd done something wrong.

"I've one wish left," Sarah said with a halfhearted smile, holding up the ridiculous matchstick case. She wasn't sure what he was upset about, but whatever it was, she had just made it worse. Jareth jerked back from her as if she'd hurt him.

"You accepted your dreams...from _him_?" Jareth said disbelievingly, sounding angry and betrayed. Sarah opened her mouth and left it open.

She hadn't thought of it like that.

"Well...yes," Sarah said hesitantly, genuinely caught off guard. Jareth's mouth firmed into a thin, straight line, streaks of black crawling through his hair. He stepped away from Sarah and made a single motion towards Marib, a distilled essence of aggression that seemed to promise terrible things to come. Above them, lightning crackled across the sky.

Sarah leaped in between them with a thrill of terror, and it wasn't at all for what Jareth might do to Marib. Jareth was trying to pick a fight out of his weight class.

"Jareth," Sarah said, her hand out placatingly, "I did it to help you!"

He looked down at her in a cold fury.

"How generous of you," he growled. Sarah shut her mouth with a snap, outrage momentarily rendering her speechless.

"You...you..." Sarah was nearly sputtering, she was so angry. She wanted to...

Marib was suddenly there, sifting through her thoughts with greedy fingers, pulling at her. He'd do anything she wanted, anything at all, and god help her all she wanted right then was-

Sarah clapped a hand over her mouth and clamped down on her thoughts, shaken.

"Master," Marib said plaintively, and Jareth showed his sharp teeth.

"No," Sarah said with thunderous determination. Maybe that was what the woman who'd passed Marib on to her had been looking for. Having a Jinn seemed to require a heroic amount of it. Determination and a level of self-control that approached the ridiculous. Any person who hoped to keep a Jinn, even an obliging one like Marib would...well, they would end up like the woman in the gray dress. Stern and cold and tightly controlled. Sarah didn't think she had it in her. Sooner or later she was going to slip and hurt someone. She eyed Jareth, who was positively seething.

Probably sooner.

Sarah curled her hands into two tight fists, Toby's postcard crinkling in her hand. Best to get rid of the wish now.

She wondered, suddenly, if Marcus had left the postcard for her just to ensure she wasted a wish. He'd known what Marib was. It would be very like him.

"I want to make my last wish, Marib," Sarah said, and watched something in Jareth's eyes die. Her heart wilted treacherously at the sight.

Marib beamed at her.

"Yes, master," he said eagerly, and Jareth went for his throat.

There was a sharp ozone tang of tangled magics in the air as he leaped at the Jinn.

"No!" Sarah cried, and the words were there on her lips, 'Marib, don't hurt him'. That was what she wanted, but Marib was waiting for that last wish and she didn't dare speak, she didn't dare even think. She tightened her hand around Toby's postcard, rubbing the paper between her fingers, agitated and uncertain. She had to make the wish now or Marib would make it for her.

Jareth got his hands around Marib's neck, and to Marib's credit, the Jinn didn't really do much to fight back at first. But then Jareth did something flashy with his hands that involved a lot of blue light and the distinct smell of scorching flesh, and Marib started to look pissed. He grabbed hold of Jareth's shirt, and suddenly the fiery cracks in his hand were open a lot wider than they had been, and Jareth growled as the scent of scorched flesh got more pronounced.

Dammit all...

"I wish the Goblin King was free," Sarah said clearly.

Marib and Jareth both turned their heads to look at her.

"What was that?" Marib asked, caught off guard.

"What was that?" Jareth said, startled.

His shirt was smoldering slightly. The similarity of the befuddled looks on their faces might have made her laugh, any other day.

Whatever Marib had been expecting from what he'd gleaned from her rather murderously furious thoughts toward Jareth in the last few minutes, wishing for his freedom obviously wasn't it. Sarah took a deep breath and ordered her thoughts neatly.

"I wish the Goblin King was free," she said simply. Jareth's eyes went wide. Marib turned his otherworldly eyes upon the Goblin King in question. It was not exactly a friendly look.

"As you wish," he sighed, with rather less than his usual excitement. He reached out with one huge hand and got hold of Jareth's head, and Sarah realized with a wince that this was probably going to be less pleasant for the Goblin King than it strictly needed to be.

Jareth stiffened, and for a long moment, there was no other indication save that. Then, Jareth started to struggle. He put his back into it, and from the look on his face he was in a good amount of pain as he did it.

Sarah took a step forward, clenching her fists, and Marib looked at her briefly.

_WAIT._

Marib did not say it. He was busy. Marib simply painted the word in big red letters onto her brain. It was not a particularly nice feeling, but it stopped Sarah cold. She narrowed her eyes at Marib as Jareth arched his back, trying to wrench his head out of the Jinn's grasp.

"You're hurting," she said softly, angrily. "You're hurting!"

Marib registered her displeasure and lowered his head, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

Sarah felt the ground under her feet lurch, and Jareth's body stiffened in shock. A moment later Sarah was on her knees, gasping. She had felt...something...snap. She hadn't even noticed when this place had gotten a hook into her, but she felt it break. It hadn't been too bad and it hadn't felt very deep, but it had hurt. She lifted her head and saw Marib lowering Jareth's limp form to the ground. He was utterly still in the larger man's arms, and Sarah jumped to her feet in dismay.

"What have you done?" she demanded, furious. Marib looked up at her calmly. It had started to rain, lightly.

"He is free, as you asked. You are also free, though you did not ask for that," he explained. It was wonderful how he could answer a question without actually saying anything. Sarah shot him a mistrustful look as she crouched down at Jareth's side. He was pale, but he was breathing.

"What exactly did you do to free him?" Sarah asked crisply, keeping her temper.

Marib looked hesitant.

"I did not kill it, if that is what you fear. I have made it so it was never alive," he told her. Sarah blinked at him.

"Kill?" she ventured, "kill what?"

Marib pointed at the horizon.

"The creature that lived there," he said. When she continued to look mystified, he elaborated. "We stand now on its shell," he said, pointing to the earth under his feet.

The labyrinth. He'd killed the-

"Wow," Sarah said, impressed. Alive. That was...just about as horrible as she'd feared it would be. "Well done, Marib," she said softly, stroking Jareth's forehead. It had trapped him, and it had tried to trap her as well. She wasn't about to cry over it. "Will he be all right?"

As if in answer, Jareth stirred a little under her hands.

The sky chose that particular moment to open up. What had started as a light sprinkling settled quite happily into a downpour, as if the storm that had been held at bay had been finally released all at once. She looked up, rapidly getting soaked, and shared a weary look with the Jinn.

"No need for you to get wet," Sarah said, opening the little tin of matches. Marib looked relieved.

"Thank you, master," he said, and he was gone. Poof. No flash of light or glitter or anything. He was powerful, but he lacked the Goblin King's style.

Sarah tucked the container into the waistband of her dress, alongside the torn scrap of Toby's postcard. She rubbed her arms, shivering. With the obliteration of the gate the air had warmed, but it was still too cold, and now she was getting wet

Jareth groaned softly, and put a hand up to cover his face as if to shield himself from the rain. Then, seeming to realize where he was, he stiffened and sat up sharply. He looked up at her with uncomprehending eyes. Then slowly, as if in a dream, he looked down at his own hands.

"Are you all right?" Sarah asked rather timidly. He looked exactly the same to her. A bit shaken up, maybe.

He lifted his head and looked at her, seeming dazed.

"Free," he said thickly. He reached out, quick as a snake and snatched her by the shoulders. His eyes were wild, and the look on his face was rapidly becoming alarming. "Do you know," he demanded roughly, "how long-" his voice broke on the last word and he shook her slightly. "Do you?" he said with a laugh in his voice that bordered slightly on the hysterical.

Sarah had been in that place before, though not for the same reason. She got a good, steadying grip on his upper arms and moved to pull him to his feet.

"Its raining, Jareth," she told him, not without sympathy, "We need to get somewhere dry."

Jareth allowed her to do this more because he wasn't paying attention than anything else. His eyes were glittering with something crazier than joy, and deeper than shock.

"Why did you do it? You could have had anything you wanted," he breathed, searching her face for answers. He tightened his grip on her shoulders and shoved his face in close. "Why, Sarah? Why do you do these things for me?"

Thunder cracked energetically over their heads, but it was like Jareth couldn't hear it. Sarah could understand. Sometimes having your world turned upside down could throw you for a loop, even if things were better for the change.

"Jareth," Sarah said sharply, reaching up and grabbing his chin. _Focus._ Jareth's eyes widened. "Rain," she said clearly, pointing up.

Jareth looked up, and then back down at her. The only warning she got was a slight narrowing of his eyes. He took one step forward, snatching her up, and pushing her backwards. Then he slammed her back up against a tree, and Sarah noticed that it was abruptly about twenty degrees warmer, and she had absolutely no idea where the hell they were. Not where they had been, that was for sure. It wasn't raining here.

Jareth put his hands on the tree at her back, effectively trapping her in place. He was breathing in short, sharp pants, his eyes huge and dark. He kept moving his head, trying to look her in the eye.

"Tell me," he insisted, almost pleading."Why?"

Sarah lifted her head and looked him full in the face, disbelieving. Good god, surely he knew by now.

Jareth's eyes were glittering. She'd been wrong. He did look different. He looked like someone had lit him up from the inside. He was practically glowing, and it had nothing to do with magic.

"Say it," he breathed faintly, the hope in his eyes making him almost too bright to look at. "Say it."

If he'd been smug, or angry, her reaction might have been very different, but he wasn't. He was stripped bare and almost incandescent with intensity, and the sight of that on his face made her heart start fluttering disgracefully.

"Because I love you," she sighed, and said nothing more for a while, because Jareth had taken complete possession of her mouth and her tongue and several crucial parts of her nervous system relating to higher brain function. He kissed her with an emotional intensity that made Sarah concerned about the possibility of spontaneous combustion. He attacked her with a passion that left little doubt that her feelings were returned, in spades.

Sarah grabbed him and held on tight. He pulled back a little, stroking her face, looking like a man who'd just gotten his dreams delivered to him on a silver platter. Sarah saw that look on his face and every ounce of self restraint she'd ever possessed flickered and died.

Sarah kissed him like he was hers, and never would be allowed to be anyone else's.

Jareth did not bother removing his pants, and Sarah wasted several precious seconds of groping and clasping to shimmy out of her undies and hike up her skirt. Jareth pressed close to her, kissing her deeply, hitching her legs up around his waist as he lifted her easily.

"Again," he breathed into her lips, as he brushed against her intimately. "Say it again." He slid inside her with the ease of an indrawn breath, pushing her up against the rough bark of the tree trunk. She shivered at the deliciousness of the abrupt invasion, catching his lower lip between her teeth. She nipped him, pleased.

"I love you," Sarah managed, her voice soft and welcoming.

"Yes," Jareth growled fiercely. "Oh." His voice went soft as he moved within her. "Oh, yes..."

He was rough with her this time, as rough with her as she was with him, as if they both needed desperately to be reassured of the solid reality of the other's presence. He was alive, she was alive. He'd sent her away, she'd made it back to him. It had happened, but it was like she needed to touch him to be able to believe it.

"Don't you dare," Sarah panted, and thrust her hips against him, hard, "ever," she growled at him, "leave me." Jareth moaned at the sharp press of her body against him.

"Never," he whispered fiercely, and Sarah's heart contracted with a little wail inside her chest. "Never," he swore, and Sarah cried out softly against him, almost coming simply from the sound of his voice. He was thrusting into her as if he needed to prove to her that he was really there. As if he needed to prove to himself that she was still there.

Sarah got loud. She didn't care.

Jareth seemed to find her reaction unbearably exciting, gasping and moving deeply within her when she cried out for him. His voice was rough as he urged her on. The bark of the tree was biting into her back, but even that felt good in the sweet, desperate place she was in.

He hit the right spot, god, he was just right and she dug her nails in as if to hold him there.

"Please," she gasped, almost incoherently, "please..." He thrust again, and for a moment it was so good she thought she had come, but then he thrust again and it was better. She arched against him with a little wail and Jareth cried out, thrusting against her hard as if the sensation of her climax was more than he could bear. She realized with a thrill that he was coming as she was, together, and almost laughed out loud, it was such a wonderful treat...

Joy still singing strong through her veins, Sarah looked up and burned the expression of sheer bliss on his face into her memory forever.

* * *

(a flutter of tasteful music wells up)

(Tiny Jareth is somberly plucking an acoustic guitar. Skeep, in a lovely sequined gown, picks away at a piano)

_A slightly soggy peace this morning with it brings,_

_the sun for partly cloudy skies and a chance of thunderstorms will not show its head._

_Go hence, and have more talk of these weird and unlikely things_

_Some shall be pardoned and some punished (depending on the statues of the area in question)_

_For never was there a story of more smut, adventure and bling,_

_Than that of Sarah and her Goblin King._


	19. EPILOGUE

The Lady and the Knight

Epilogue

Sarah sat under a golden tree, listening patiently as the little red fox on her shoulder chattered away at her in Japanese. She did not actually understand Japanese, so the listening was rather more like vacant nodding. She was almost certain that the fox in question could speak and understand English perfectly well, but after nearly three weeks in her company, Sarah had yet to trick her into slipping up and revealing that fact. Sarah had bought a phrase book, but she kept catching the fox giggling every time she pulled it out. It had been an interesting few weeks.

The little red fox looked up at the leaves fluttering above her head, a little matchstick case dangling from a chain at her throat. Her tail curled affectionately around Sarah's neck like a collar. It twitched occasionally to the beat of goblin music.

The music had been going for nearly an hour now; danceable, and just slightly disturbing. As Sarah couldn't see more than a handful of goblins actually holding any kind of instrument, she had a sneaky suspicion that Jareth was responsible.

She hadn't seen him yet, though, and that was odd...It left her feeling a bit forlorn and slightly agitated. Didn't he want to see her? Sarah frowned, pushing the thought firmly aside.

She and the fox watched a small goblin wrestling with a large blue electric guitar with the sort of bewildered amusement that often came with an unusual life. The guitar, distressed, was emitting wailing sounds that were clashing with the slightly eerie music that for all Sarah knew was seeping out of the walls. The electric cord of the guitar was trailing listlessly on the ground, tripping up dancers, but the guitar still managed to play. Sarah didn't even see any amplifiers about. Beside him a smaller goblin was swinging a cowbell energetically. With a small shudder, she saw a goblin in a helmet by the wall bringing out a pair of bagpipes.

"I think it might be time to get going," Sarah said with an anticipatory chill. The goblin, thankfully, seemed to be having some trouble deciding which tube to blow into. The fox leaped down off her shoulder in a fluid movement, and went up to the pale trunk of Marcus' tree. She extended one paw and touched it, then looked back pleadingly at Sarah with bright black eyes. Even without a common language or Marib hanging around to translate, Sarah picked up on the request loud and clear.

"You want up?" she said sweetly. The fox somehow managed to frown at her in a dignified manner. Lacking eyebrows and lips, it was a fairly impressive feat. Sarah stood and picked her up, ignoring the scowl, cooing over her. "Does the sweet little fox want up?" She asked in honey tones. Does the sweet little fox want to curse at me in a language I can understand? The fox declined to take the bait, but allowed Sarah to lift her up into a relatively low hanging branch. The sleeves of Sarah's white kimono fell back as she reached up, revealing the pale green undersleeves. The fox disappeared into golden leaves with a flash of ruddy fur. Sarah could swear she shook her little paw at her before she went.

Sarah dusted her hands off and felt a warm hand on the back of her neck. A warm leather-gloved hand. Her mouth curled up into a knowing smile as she felt someone leaning close.

"Tell me something, Sarah," said a voice in her ear. "Can you dance in that lovely costume?"

Sarah tugged on the fabric of her kimono and silently extended a foot past the hem as she turned to face him. Instead of the traditional wooden sandals, which would have been nearly impossible for her to walk in, much less dance, she wore little black slippers with straps. She had her mouth open to say something witty and probably suggestive (it _had_ been weeks since she'd...erm...seen him), and left it open, startled.

"Can you dance with a child?" she managed, because he had one.

Jareth gave her one of his sharp smiles, looking quite wild and pleased with himself. The baby he held in the crook of one arm grinned at Sarah delightedly, clapping her little hands. Her hair was brilliantly orange, and she was wearing a little fluffy pink dress.

"Of course I can," Jareth said, lifting the baby up to eye level. "But you've already had a dance, haven't you?" he asked the child sweetly, and she squealed in delight, laughing and kicking her little legs. Jareth had laughter and sunlight in his eyes, and Sarah felt her conscience roar to life with a twang of heartstrings.

She reached out with a finger, and the babe obligingly wrapped her little hand around it, squeezing tightly. Sarah bit her lip, looking at the tiny, perfect fingers. She tried not to think of Toby. She'd just been back for a visit to her father's house, not long ago...

"Where did you-" she stopped herself, and scowled. "_Who_ did you get her from?"

Jareth gave her a cool, appraising look, scooping the child close. The motion broke the grip the little girl had on Sarah.

"I can't see how that matters," he replied, glancing down as a goblin approached with reaching hands. Jareth passed the little girl off to the goblin nonchalantly. "She's mine now."

Sarah watched with a frown as the goblin danced about with her, twirling the babe around the courtyard in time to the slightly disturbing music. Jareth followed her gaze, and the music was suddenly brighter, almost jaunty. The baby laughed as the goblin tossed her into the air.

Sarah flinched.

Jareth was abruptly much closer to her. He laughed softly into her ear. She'd forgotten how wonderful he smelled. Sweet and fresh; like something impossibly tasty, if she was willing to be honest with herself. Sarah felt a gentle tugging at the back of her head, and glanced back to see Jareth smoothly sliding the sticks out of her hair. Her hair spilled down the back of her neck and Jareth caught it in one hand, bringing it close to his face and inhaling deeply the scent of her. From the look on his face Sarah could guess that she wasn't the only one who was...remembering. It had, after all, been a lot longer for him than it had been for her.

Sarah took a step back, reaching up to sweep her hair back over her shoulder, out of his grasp. Jareth narrowed his eyes, a little.

"Where are her parents?" Sarah demanded, trying very hard to ignore the baby's squeals of delight as her new companions played with her. The baby, at least, seemed quite happy to be here.

She knew she wasn't being fair. There were rules that had to be followed. Rules for dealing with magical creatures, and rules for magical creatures dealing with ordinary people. Marib couldn't say what he was unless his master allowed it. You got three wishes, not four. Vampires needed to be invited in. Sleeping Beauty awoke with a kiss, and you never, ever went off the path in a dark forest no matter what.

Jareth was still the Goblin King, even though he was no longer a prisoner of the land he ruled over. He didn't take children unless the right words were said. Once the words were said, he couldn't just give them back. Children had to be won back. Those were the rules of this place.

She knew she wasn't being fair, but she couldn't just...she'd been on the other side of it, and the memory of how that had felt made her want to force him to at least feel bad about what he was doing. Wasn't that the right thing to do? Looking at the expression on Jareth's face, Sarah suddenly wasn't so sure.

"Tell me," he said sharply, annoyed, "does she look unhappy? Mistreated?" He gestured at the baby without looking at her, as if too confident to bother. Sarah looked. The baby was ecstatic, giggling and squirming in the adoring arms of her new playmates. There was something endearingly mischievous about her face, as if she'd had a bit of goblin in her even before being wished away. Sarah tore her eyes away from the baby to look at the goblins surrounding her.

The fellow with the electric guitar was strutting around proudly, pelvis first, leaving a wake of tripped and stumbling dancers behind him. Marib had two or three of the small ones on his shoulders. As they were mostly piles of fluff it was hard to tell exactly how many from a distance. The fellow with the bagpipes had two of his fellows crowded around, all trying to blow into the instrument at once.

The goblins were deplorably adorable. It certainly wouldn't be a bad life for the little girl...

"No, she looks happy," Sarah said quietly, somewhat cowed. She pressed her lips into a thin line as Jareth's eyes flashed in triumph.

"Now that we've gotten that little bit of idiocy out of the way," He said with a wicked smile, leaning close as if to kiss her. Sarah jerked her head back.

"But her parents," she insisted stubbornly. Jareth sighed and rested his head on Sarah's shoulder for a moment as if he needed to gather his strength. Sarah flushed furiously.

"Please," she said, lowering her voice. Her tone was suddenly softer, more private. Jareth stilled at the sound. Then he lifted his head, just far enough to press his lips to the corner of her mouth. Her heart melted into a warm little quivering ball in her chest. When he brought up a crystal between them, she was barely able to command enough brain function to look into it.

Reflected inside it was an image of a redheaded woman arguing with a slightly mischievous looking man in a suit. After a few moments of this, a blond woman came in and started yelling at both of them. Sarah couldn't hear what they were saying, but from what she saw, she would guess that the blond was the man's wife, and she wasn't very happy.

"Oh, dear," Sarah said, her eyes widening. The blond woman had just slapped her husband in the face. The redhead was edging for the door.

"They don't even remember they ever had a baby," Jareth said quietly. The redhead looked at the man for a moment before she left. She seemed young and rather angry.

They certainly looked like they had more than enough troubles on their own.

Jareth saw the look on her face, and made the crystal vanish with an elegant flick of his fingers. Then he put a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to look at him.

"Is my Lady satisfied?" he asked, not without some humor. Sarah tilted her head and lifted one side of her mouth in a half smile.

"Dance?" she offered, not answering him. She supposed she was as satisfied as she was going to get.

Jareth's eyes brightened, and he pulled her smoothly out onto the dance floor. The setting sun illuminated the tree over their heads, seeming to set the golden leaves alight with orange fire. The light caught Jareth as it slipped closer to the horizon, making him glow and sparkle. He looked like an angel. She didn't know if he'd done it for effect, but he was dressed in shades of gold, and the fire kissed him too, making him seem far too beautiful to touch.

Sarah reached up and let a few pale strands of hair fall though her fingers, transfixed by what she was seeing. He looked very pleased with her reaction, and Sarah lost any doubt that he'd planned this. He'd probably timed his entrance to get the best out of the light.

Jareth saw the sudden, good-natured suspicion in her eyes, and smiled like a creature that could never be tamed.

The music swelled all around them, above and below them, and Sarah looked down with a start to see that they were dancing a good seven feet above the ground, on thin air. The golden leaves of Marcus' tree sparked just above their heads, and when she looked out at Jareth's labyrinth, she could see the sunset had cast all of it with ruby light. Like the whole of his world had been touched by fire, just for a moment. A few curious fairies flitted close, and they, too, sparkled in the dying light.

"I wanted you to see this," Jareth breathed, "after being away so long." He turned her carefully in his arms as they floated in mid air, so she was nestled close to him. Below them, the cheerful cries of goblins floated up with the music. Jareth started singing quietly in her ear.

He hadn't sounded reproachful in the least when he'd spoken to her. It was as if, to him, it did not matter where she went, so long as she came back again.

But still...She wouldn't be gone so long next time. She didn't much like it, and from the strength of Jareth's grip on her, she could imagine he didn't care for it either. Sarah had missed him. It was good to be back home.

Home.

Sarah shivered slightly, pleased. Staying with Jareth was much less about where her feet were than where her heart was. She'd worried that the long absence might have been too hard on him, but it certainly seemed like he'd been keeping himself busy.

She was distracted, for a moment, by a delighted squeal of laughter from the baby girl below them. Sarah glanced down and saw one of the goblins had set her on his shoulders and was running across the courtyard with her.

"Tell me," Jareth said softly into her ear, "How long were you going to stay with me?"

Heart, not feet.

Sarah looked up at the golden, beautiful thing that held her. Then out at the fire kissed landscape spread out in front of them. Faintly, from below, Sarah heard the mangled sound of bagpipes. The question was coy, and slightly arrogant- Jareth had stacked the deck in his favor. She rested her head back against Jareth's chest with a sigh.

"Forever," Sarah said, and smiled.

* * *

**Edit:7/25/10- "In Dreams" for your prologue pleasure, "The Villain and the King" for those of the sequel persuasion. **

_Author's Note:_

_(sniffling)_"Happy ending," _Skeep said, blowing his nose loudly._

_(patting him on the back) And there's more to come, you'll see. A few one shots._

_(Tiny Jareth gives me the eye)_

_(nervously)_ _With smut! Well...at least a bit._

_- the story with what Marcus is planning for Toby might get told later...if I ever feel like making a sequel to this._

_Lixxle- definitely not Marcus's tree. Every time smut happens on Marcus' tree, an angel gets her wings, a fairy dies, and Jesus kills a kitten. It's a special tree, and not in a mentally challenged way. Though I suppose trees aren't actually all that bright. It's relatively intelligent, as far as trees go. What was I talking about?_

_deh6799- Marib didn't really kill anything. He just made it so the labyrinth was never alive in the first place. It is still a perfectly ordinary magical structure, that will change and befuddle runners far into the future, but it is no longer alive, and while Jareth is still the Goblin King, he is now free and no longer trapped without choices in his own kingdom. He's not a slave anymore (beams)._

_FaeriesMidwife- gosh, my very own stalker!_

_Thanks to all my reviewers for all your encouragement (you guys are the ones who kept me going on this fic), Kore-of-Myth for being my kick-ass Beta, and Lixxle for...general awesomeness. Awards will be passed out after drinks and a show._

_(passing Skeep and Jareth colorful drinks garnished with many umbrellas, and settling us all firmly in front of the couch)_


End file.
